


Salt of the Earth

by MsMoon



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-18 20:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11882106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsMoon/pseuds/MsMoon
Summary: After responding to an incident, members of the team are saved by an unknown metahuman. But no protocols are in place to deal with the series of unfortunate events that assail Anitia Moore. What exactly should the team do when a someone with powers needs training but doesn’t want to be a member of the team?





	1. Big K, little r

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mystery woman turns kryptonite into a harmless crystal...then she leaves. What??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I managed to infect my housemate with the DC bug, and we just finished rewatching Young Justice (again, in my case). Since then, we can't stop talking about headcanons and story ideas, and this one is sticking with me. In true me fashion, it's just sticking to my ribs till I get it out. So, here it is. I'm going to crank out as much of it as I can while I can.

The cement branded his skin as he skidded to a halt. Normally, this wouldn’t even slow him down, but now….

The thick lead chain that dangled around his neck may as well have been moored to the asphalt. It was connected to a single piece of kryptonite….small, but big enough to weigh him down.

He could still hear the distant screams of people as they fled their cars. The bridge was awash motor oil and shrouded in smoke from burnt tires, the acrid scent burning the back of his throat… the Metro-Narrows was still standing, but it had seen better days.

Firmly planting his hands on the blacktop, Superboy tried to push himself up. The radiant death-rock was no bigger than his wrist!…and yet, his arms screamed in agony.

“I suppose now you know how it feels to be human.” the voice was unnatural, altered to be too deep and too… electronic. Filtered through the strange gas mask on the creep’s face.

He wore basic black denim overalls, a heavy tool belt, a ski mask and a gas mask over that… a bit of overkill on keeping that identity secret, if you asked Superboy.

His heavy footfalls were slow, purposeful. Thudding through the cement till they were all Superboy could hear. He didn’t put weight on the staff that he carried, using it as a martial weapon much the same way Robin did…

…speaking of Robin… Superboy didn’t hear Lagoon boy or Robin struggling against unseen restraints or the distant sounds of a panicking populace. His eyes rose to their assailant’s face, and he winced. He could just make out bright green eyes through the mask.

He wanted to ask what this was. Why this creep was attacking and what he hoped to gain. But he was too weak. His chest was beginning to feel heavy, and even the act of breathing was becoming laborious.

A simple mission. And with Blue assigned elsewhere, he’d been more than happy to take the role of heavy-hitter for Delta team. And here they were…

“Don’t fret.” The asshole said, dropping to one knee to loom over him. “It’s almost over.”

Superboy bared his teeth and refused to look away. Whatever this freak was planning to do, he’d have to meet his eye the entire time.

Superboy didn’t see the woman, because she came out of nowhere. A black boot landing squarely on the asshole’s shoulder. He was flung like a skipping stone across the bridge.

Careful hands gripped his right shoulder as she turned him over. All in black, with long white hair and tanned skin, a pair of blue eyes met his. She wore an indigo scarf around her head and mouth and wore nothing but black. Her body was long and sleek.

“Here, let me see.” she said, her voice reedy, frantic. She ripped the kryptonite from the chain around his neck, reeling back to toss it away. But then her arm froze in place. She cried out as he hand was forced back down, just above him.

Superboy turned his head and managed to see the freak with his hand reaching out towards her. He was keeping the kryptonite in her hand near enough to Superboy to keep him in that weakened state.

Her eyes meet his, and he watches as her fear turn into anger.

“Fine. You want to play.” She grumbled. “Let’s play.”

The kryptonite in her hand stopped glowing, flickering at first before dulling to an emerald color… and then it began to gray slightly as all the color disappeared, leaving a clear crystal behind.

Her eyes changed from bright blue to glowing green.

“Fuck.” the altered voice did nothing to hide the freak’s rapidly dwindling confidence.

He vaulted forward, struck again. This time by Superman wielding a long beam.

Unfortunately, Superboy was not recovered enough… it was like the Kryptonite was still around.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he heard the woman swear. “I can’t contain it!”

The creep, picked himself up, staggering a bit before surveying the scene. As Superman drew closer to Superboy, his flight faltered. By then it was too late, and he couldn’t stop himself from crashing.

Superboy looked up to meet those green eyes, laden with concern. She dropped the clear crystal onto his chest and was drawing away, but the properties of the kryptonite were…were inside of her.

The Creep’s eyes tracked this movement, his eyes following the path of the crystal as she released it. He smirked at her. “Well, kill ‘em already.” he grumbled. “No sense in this venture being a total bust.” Superboy’s eyes widened as he vanished entirely.

“Hey!” she shouted, and Superboy heard Superman talking into the com device in his ear. “Asshole!” she hissed.

“Superboy…is down. Myself as well.” he said. “I think it’s the girl.”

“Roger that!”

 _‘Clark, no.’_ Superboy wanted to say, but all he got out was a faint groan of ‘no’.

An arrow sailed through the air and hit her in the center of her chest, knocking her over the edge of the bridge.

“No!” Superboy sat up almost immediately. Her scarf fluttered down, the only evidence she had even been there.

…he felt… better. Not perfect. But…not like he was going to suffocate just from the effort it took to breathe.

He lurched upward, stumbling as his eyes landed on his floating rescuer. Evidently,…she’d caught herself in midair. He hands were clenched tightly against her own collarbone, her knees drawn up…it almost looked like a timid fetal position.

“So… Kryptonite gives you wings.” she said, her voice jittery. He blinked at her, as she shrugged. “Who knew?” she drifted up, closer and he felt his body shudder, as though it would collapse in on him.

She gasped.

“Jesus Christ bananas, it’s still killing you.” she whimpered. Her mouth hung open before she half warbled. “I gotta get it away.” and then she turned and began flying out low over the water before finally disappearing amid the crowded buildings.

Superboy instantly felt better…and worse. He turned, limping to Superman’s side. He hooked an arm under Superman’s bicep, helping him to stand upright. Now steady, Superman put a hand on his shoulder.

“Alright, Kon?”

Superboy nodded. “She helped us.”

Superman squinted at him.

“And now both of them are gone.” La’gaan’s voice was resentful and challenging all at once, and Superboy had to remind himself that this was his teammate….again. Not a rival, not an adversary. His teammate.

Green Arrow swung himself in their direction. “How did this all end up so pear-shaped?”

“It was supposed to be a routine sweep.” Superboy reminded. “Nothing in the reports mentioned kryptonite.”

“Or the freak in the masks.” La’gaan muttered, rubbing his throat.

“Are you two alright?” Superboy asked, now aware that he had been particularly focused on his own set of circumstances.

“Never better.” Robin assured. He had already placed the crystal that had been kryptonite into one of his belt pouches and was gathering up the scarf.

“And they weren’t working together?” Superman asked.

“No. He was the one that caused all of this.” Superboy gestured around them.

“She swooped in and… she did something to the kryptonite.” Robin said. “I’ll know more once I run some tests.”

Superman looked at Green Arrow. “What kept you?”

“Some idiot in a gas mask…” he grumbled, his descriptor setting Delta team on edge. “He just appeared and knocked me around with a staff… then he… disappeared again.”

“It was probably the same guy that was here!” La’gaan growled. Superboy knew it was coming, he just had to wait for it and–“Neptune’s beard!” and there it was.

“…and you’re sure they weren’t working together?” Superman asked, his gaze turning back to Superboy.

“I’m certain she was nowhere in sight when he started this.” He says evenly.

“Superboy’s right.” Robin vouched, joining the group. “We’d set the perimeter pretty far back and cleared the area of civilians.”

“Authorities are inbound.” Green Arrow observed, his Archer's gaze glancing towards Metropolis as the flashing lights of emergency vehicles began to converge on the bridge from that side.

“We should reconvene at HQ.” Superboy decides.


	2. Inquiring Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin finds one of the puzzle peices...but it still doesn't fit.

The Warehouse that Nightwing had jokingly hoped would become more of a warehome didn't pan out, but it did serve a purpose. It was now the perfect front for Zeta tube convergence, and the team often met there before returning to their new HQ. With the League fully operational, space had been made for them. Technically, they were still in Mount Justice, albeit several levels underground. The perfect place for a new secret bass was beneath the bones of the old one. 

Conner stood at a comfortable distance behind Robin, partially amazed at the consistent clacking blips and bloops the boy's fingers made as they pianoed their way across the screen.

Tim was even more of a technology buff than Dick had been…. and that's _saying_ something.

Most of the others had filed out after the initial report had been filed... Kaldur had left Tim to his own investigative processes.

Robin had leapt immediately into scanning the crystal and data mining for additional images to pull from. Conner stayed behind because he was invested. La'gaan as well, though he was pacing, arms crossed, staring at his own feet. Dick, Jaime, and Bart had joined them, all three of them staring intently at the computer screen as Tim typed.

Thanks to traffic cams on the bridge, Tim had managed to get several awkward camera angles of the fight… not that it helped to identify the freak with the masks and the staff. He was well and truly covered. That meant they had to look at details for him.

"What's that on his staff?" Jaime asked, pointing to a single slip of orange on the edge of his staff.

Tim's eyes flick to the screen before even more furious typing. The shot is mostly static, he's walking. Nothing more. The computer freezes the image and zooms in, but it blurs.

"Impossible to say at this resolution." Robin muttered. "Something inlaid into the wood, maybe." A minute shake of his head accompanied that inquiry before he moved on entirely. The query had been cataloged, but there was too much to consider to waste time on it.

"What have you gotten so far?" Nightwing asked.

"Computer puts him at 6ft 4." Robin reported. "Around… 250 pounds, give or take." He sighed heavily. "Due to multiple masks, we can't even hope for a facial recognition. And every bit of his skin is covered… Superboy says his eyes were green."

"So, no distinguishable marks, but he has green eyes."

"Exactly."

"The woman?"

"Anyone else think she looks like Milla Jovovich?" Jaime asked, tilting his head to the side. "I mean, she's tan, but… in the face and all.."

"I see it." Bart said, his head also tilted to the side. "The white hair's a bit much."

"Computer has her around 130 pounds, and she's…" he squinted, looking a little more closely at the readout. "... 5 foot 9?... a little under."

"Damn. That's tall." Impulse rattled. "And not just because I'm short. Don't say it's cause I'm short. That's tall."

"It's above average." Superboy said with a shrug. "It's really light for so tall…"

Robin muttered under his breath, frustrated by the lack of data. "We have a clear shot of her face, but no matching facial recognition."

Conner stares at the shot Robin's referring to, the one of her suspended in mid air... Her face is open, unobscured, and utterly surprised. He remembers that face, and how quickly it shifted to fear... fear that she was hurting him.

"Nothing in the DMV database?" Nightwing asked, his voice reflecting shock.

"Nothing."

Nightwing turned to Superboy. "You were closest to her. Did she sound international?"

Superboy shook his head. "No. She definitely sounded American."

"Hey, look at this." Robin hunkered down, enlarging a camera on top of the bridge.

The angle was awkward due to a previous strike. It was tilted downward, but the angle suddenly became perfect when the masked freak jumped up there… the bottom of his staff was directly in front of the camera. Robin froze the image and flipped it to reveal bright orange letters that spelled out the word…..

"Virgin?" La'gaan asked.

"Virgil." Nightwing corrected.

"Did that asshole steal that staff from some guy named Virgil?" Jaime asked.

Robin shrugged, typing 'Virgil' above the guy's figure.

"Dude… really?" Bart asked.

"We've already got a Virgil…" Jaime reminds.

"It's the only name we have to go with at this point." Robin said with a shrug. His attention snapped to a popup screen to his right as the computer flashed the words 'Possible Match' and '98%'. "Fingerprints!"

"What now?" Conner asked.

"The rock? The clear Kryptonite? It had three fingerprints on it!" he said as he tapped the link under the word 'match'. "The computer's found a viable…"

They all stared as the image of a tiny, mousy-haired girl came up in sharp contrast next to the woman it had matched her to.

"No way…" La'gaan murmured, his eyes drifting between the two, his arms hanging listlessly at his sides.

"She's like… four feet tall!" Bart yelped, trying hard not to laugh (and failing).

"Who is she?" Nightwing asked.

"Anita Lilian Moore." Robin recited the words in a more robotic monotone than Red Tornado.

Nightwing stared at the images. They all stared at them. "Uh… go back to the security footage and… see if you can find this girl anywhere on, near, or around the bridge around the time of the incident."

Robin's fingers sprung to life, entering in new search parameters into the recognition software.

"What are you thinking?" Conner asked.

Dick shrugged, reaching for his cell phone. "We know that the other one could turn invisible…" he sighed as Superboy's eyes narrowed. Even he could see that Dick felt like he was reaching.

"Transformation, maybe?" Jaime ventures.

"Maybe…" Nightwing scoffed. "Stranger things have happened."

"Recognized, Batman 02." The imminent arrival of the Dark Knight was immediately followed by, "What do you have so far?"

"Fingerprints from the woman, but… they belong to this girl." Nightwing reported.

"We have confirmation." Robin announced. He pointed to an area where pedestrians could walk on the bridge. While her frame was slight, she was certainly there. Taking photos of the view over the water before the attack.

Kaldur joined them. "That is always good to hear." Dick repeated Robin's findings to Kaldur, while Batman glared at the images on the screen.

The puzzle pieces were clearer, but...but he still wasn't entirely sure how they all fit together. They needed more intel.


	3. The House Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Moore household receives a mysterious visiter.

“Sis, what are you doing?” Travis asked, grunting as he wiggled his way onto the bottom-most branch of the tree in their backyard. It was an ash tree that had seen so many kids in its branches, it may as well grow children. “Mom says it’s time to start dinner.”

He stopped when he finally saw his sister’s face. “Why’re you cryin?”

She sniffled, the way she did when she was trying to not cry, but it was too late. It had been so hard to see before, because she was all huddled up in the top branches. But now it was impossible to miss. Her face was the ruddy sort of flushed that blotted out her freckles.

“I’m fine.” she squawked.

“No you’re not.” he droned. Though ‘dummy’ went unsaid, it was heard loud and clear in his tone.

Anita made a growling noise, her legs plopping down to the next branch down. “What are you, 12?” she mumbles, wiping at her face with the cuff of her sleeves.

He made a face at her, because he  _was_  12.

She flounced through the back door, quickly scuttling to the fridge to grab an onion. She immediately started slicing it on the cutting board as quickly as she could.

“Anita?”

Anita clenched her teeth, not looking up from her work. “Yeah, mom?”

“What’s going on?”

It was her own fault really, and she knew it. The schedule was tight for a reason, and she needed to do her part. If Anita wasn’t doing prep work for dinner then that meant dinner wouldn’t be on time, which meant everything would fall into shambles. Of  _course_  Mom would notice and get invested.

“Nothing.” she said with a flouncy little shrug, still slicing. The silence crept up her vertebrae, but she refused to break under the pressure.

“You’re sure?” That was Mom’s 'I’m not buying it’ tone.

Anita took a breath through her nose, letting the onions filter in. She forced herself to slow down, trying to let some of the tension leak out of her body. “I think my period’s about to start soon.” she grumbled, shaking her head. “I saw that old video with Jagger and Bowie singing dancing in the streets.” she let out a breathy chuckle. “It’s ridiculous.”

She knew she was in the clear when she heard Mom chuckle. She almost felt guilty when Mom patted her shoulder.

“I miss him too, baby.” she muttered before letting out a heavy sigh. “I’ll be at my bureau if you need anything.”

Mom’s bureau desk was an ancient thing she had inherited from her grandmother. A behemoth that fit snugly in the alcove hallway that led to her bedroom. It folded up nicely until she needed the desk. The shell was a weathered turquoise, while the “drawers” were all dark stained wood. Mom spent the time before dinner there, going through mail and bills.

Anita did her best to hide the sigh of relief as she continued dicing up the onions. She snatched an errant hair tie from one of the drawer pulls… Mom had them everywhere because she was used to working in a kitchen as well. Both of them were used to tying up their hair while working with food…though Anita’s didn’t look as cute as Mom’s. Mom had natural curls that just looked cute no matter what she did with it.

“I was thinking I could just.. make spaghetti tonight.” she said, as evenly as she could manage.

“Sounds good.” Mom said, in that way that she had that made it seem as though she’d heard and understood but wasn’t entirely paying attention.

All was well.

Now, if only Travis would stop side-eying her like he was a private detective and some infamous McGuffin had gone missing.

With the onions sauteing in butter and salt, she began focusing on the meat. Setting out the seasonings for that while the onions got nice and loosey-goosey. Let’s see… Italian seasoning, salt, pepper, basil, and a touch of cayenne. May as well get what she’d need for the sauce out of the pantry too-two cans of diced tomato and one can of tomato sauce.

She blinked in shock when she heard the doorbell. A visitor?…this late?

“I’ll get it.” Travis volunteered, sauntering over to the front door and freezing in place.

Anita started stirring in the spices she’d already sprinkled on the meat, so that they mixed properly. She left the spices out because she knew she’d need them for the sauce later…

“Who is it?” Mom asked.

“Uh… Mom, I know that rule we got about strangers and all, but… I mean, we kinda know him.”

“Travis Roy.” A middle name was the first warning.

“It’s Batman.”

Anita stared at the meat in the mixing bowl in front of her, the sounds of onions sizzling, and then the stark squeals of the wheels of Mom’s chair creaking as she abruptly stood.

Her chest felt tight as she saw the blur of Mom blur past the kitchen doorway to the front room. On autopilot, she dumped the seasoned meat into the pot, her ears straining to pick up any noise from the front room.

“Travis, come here.” she heard her mother say. “Bryce! Jeremiah!”

“I didn’t do it!” came the chorus from above.

“Get down here!”

Thunder from above sounded down the stairs, the pair of them crashing into Mom before Jeremiah (the youngest) crowded, “Whoooa!”

Anita took the can opener and the colander out, setting the colander aside, she started on the cans.

"Mom, why’s Batman on our front porch?” Bryce asked, stepping back and looking up as his mom.

“I am wondering the same thing.”

“We had’t done anything!” Jeremiah protested.

“You  _haven’t_  done anything.” Travis corrected.

“Yeah!”

Travis rolled his eyes.

“I mean… the compost pile’s a little bigger than we wanted it to be, but the neighbors probably need one anyway.” Bryce said with a shrug as he careened to look up at Mom.

Anita can hear Mom sigh from in the kitchen. “I don’t think Batman would be here for something like garbage sailing over the back fence, boys.” Mom said evenly, which was a deceptive tone. “Now, I have all my ducklings here… Why exactly  _is_  Batman here?”

“Sharon Moore?” Batman’s voice was like distant thunder.

“Yes.”

“May I come inside?”

Bryce tugged on Mom’s sleeve, whispering, “Don’t invite him inside, Mom. He can’t come in if you don’t.”

“He’s not a vampire, Bryce.” Travis whispered back.

Bryce half hid behind Mom before sulking. “At least with vampires, there’s rules.” …he was  _such_  a strange and endearing child. He stared up at Batman, nuzzling into Mom’s left hip.

“Batman makes his own rules, because he’s  _Batman_.” Travis grumbles as he steps closer to Mom, bumping Jeremiah behind him.

Mom put a hand on top of either of the boy’s heads without breaking eye contact with Batman, and they both went silent. “Boys… The house makes the rules, and the house always wins.” Perhaps it was because she sensed the growing panic in the smols, but Mom’s voice was eerily calm. Like… gothic-victorian-lady-barely-containing-the-inner-psycho  _calm_.

“I assure you, I have no intention of bringing any harm into your house.” Batman began. “But there are things that I must discuss with you, and I’m certain those things are better left behind closed doors.”

In that weighted moment when Mom considered those words, Anita drained the grease from the cooked meat into the grease jar and dumped the tomato cans in with the onions and meat. Then the seasoning.

“Please… come inside.”

Anita feels her shoulders droop as she hears the front door close.

She seasons the sauce, getting another pot ready with water for the pasta.

“Are these all of your foster children?”

“They're  _my children_.” Mom says with such severity, that it’s enough to make Anita smile even through her nerves. “My daughter is in the kitchen.”

“Your daughter Anita?”

Anita stirred the meat-onion-tomato mixture together and salted the pasta water. She swallowed hard, reaching instinctively for the beaded bracelet on her left wrist, her fingers rolling over the crystal and jasper beads.

The pause is too long. Way too long.

“Anita, can you come in here, please?”

“I’m waiting on the pasta water, Mom.” Anita croaks.

“Put it on simmer.”

Anita nods, to herself mostly, putting both burners on simmer and trudging into the front room. Mom doesn’t look at her, maintaining eye contact with Batman. Anita keeps her eyes down…. The boys are watching everything, little heads swaying and bobbing back and forth like there’s a tennis match going down in the living room. Mom’s gaze slowly shifts, her eyes coming to rest on Anita’s left wrist.

She knows. Of course she knows. Anita knows it too. Everyone knows that when Anita starts fiddling with her bracelet is a tell, but in spite of the dead give-away, she can’t help herself. It’s her coping mechanism, and dammit she  _needs_ help coping right now! She doesn’t really focus on the soft click-clacking of the beads, but the way the oils of her skin smooth over the stones’ surfaces.

Mom turned back to face Batman. “Speak your piece.” she demanded, her stance relaxing. 

Batman’s eyes narrowed somewhat. “This morning our team encountered an individual on the Metro-Narrows bridge. This encounter led to an altercation. We have reason to believe that your daughter intervened.” he paused, weighing his words. “And when I say 'intervened’, I mean with abilities not common to an average teenager.” The boys heads all swiveled to stare at Anita.

Mom arched an eyebrow, unperturbed. “Do you have any proof of this.”

“We do.”

Now, it was Mom’s eyes that were narrowing. “Exactly what sort of proof do you have?”

“Her fingerprints are on the crystal-kryptonite that hung around Superboy’s neck.” Batman said, his tone becoming firmer.

“Fascinating.” Mom butted in, “I  _do_ recall seeing that report on the news as it was happening, and I  _don’t_  recall seeing my daughter anywhere in that fight.”

“Her prints are on the crystal nonetheless.” Batman rebutted. “Which leaves her holding the crystal. That leads us to believe—”

“I’m largely uninterested in what you believe.” about as bland as Siri, Mom was starting the 'I don’t need this’ routine. “What do you want?”

“Simply put? We want access to your daughter.” This sentence caused the smaller boys to draw in even more tightly to Mom. Anita felt her eyes bug out as she stared down at the off-tope carpet that really needed to be shampooed. 

“Huh!” Mom’s laugh was... interesting. More like a donkey’s bray, really. “You’re hilarious.” She kept chuckling.

She gave Bryce and Jeremiah a single pat on the back. “Is your homework done?” the stared up at her blankly. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.” she nodded towards the stars. “Go on then. You too, Trav.” The boys scurried away. “Anita.”

“Dinner?” Anita pleaded, like it was a prayer.

“Dinner.”

Anita raced back to the stove and turned the burners up onto high. Then she reminded herself that 'high’ was not her friend and turned the meat sauce back down appropriately to 7. She stared at the nob for a moment before twisting it down to 6, and then back between 6 and 7.

“Mrs. Moore, your daughter’s abilities are not something that can be ignored. We’re not suggesting this become a witch hunt, but the fact remains that we can provide her with the support she needs to better establish control over her own powers.”

Without being in the room, Anita knew that Mom had crossed her arms. Possibly nodding.

“I think you should get out of my house now.” Mom says.

“I understand.” Batman says. “If you change your mind, press the button on this communicator, and someone will contact you. Day or night.” Anita does not see what Batman is referring to or where he leaves it. “None of you have to do this alone.”

There is utter silence before finally the sound of the door closing. But the following silence does not necessarily ensure peace.

…Dinner is going to be weird tonight.


	4. The Sword of Damocles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anita confesses everything that happened to her mother...and the team are listening in.

Batman slipped back into the bioship with Miss Martian, Bumblebee, and Robin. It wasn't the first or last time he envied Martian tech, with their semi-sentient vehicles with superior camouflage. 

"We managed to plant two listening devices." Robin reported. "Both are operational and online. One is in the kitchen, and the other is in the girl's room."

"I got a few pictures of the girl's room." Karen offered.

"Anything of note?" Batman asked.

"She's into collecting…." She reported, typing in rapid-fire on her holo-computer. The images she'd captured began to upload.

"Everything's in bags." M'gann notices.

And it's true to a certain extent. There are a few bits of art and fabric on the walls, a single bed, a desk, dresser and sundry. The 'collections' that Bumblebee mentioned, assorted music, books, tiny stone statues and such, are all localized around collapsed bags...ready and waiting to go. The books and CDs were all stacked vertically, smallest on top of largest inside of soft bags... The bags sizes varied, but the obvious purpose remained. 

"Picking up anything interesting over the listening devices?" Batman asks.

"The only thing I've picked up thus far is the mother promising to talk later, and the beginnings of a very tense meal." Tim reported.

"That gives us time to reconvene back at HQ." Batman decides. Robin sets about connecting the software to transcribe whatever the listening devices might overhear on their way back.

* * *

 

Anita knows she's stalling when she realizes she's drying a perfectly clean pot. Also, Mom's leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, and she has no idea how long that's been going on.

"I don't think we can put it off any longer." Mom says.

Anita nods at the bone dry pot in her hand.

"I take it you were not crying because you remembered our dearly departed Sirrah Bowie earlier today."

Anita shook her head.

"Come and sit down, dear." Mom said, sitting at her usual spot at the kitchen table.

Anita's shoulders wilted at the term 'dear'. She hated 'dear'. 'Dear' in mom-speak (at least in  _her_  Mom's mom-speak) meant 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed and-a-little-mad-ok'. Still, there wasn't much she could do about it...Anita sat down, half melting in the wooden chair.

"Tell me about your morning." Mom insisted.

Anita took a deep breath, scrubbing her face with both hands before leaning her elbows onto the table for support. "I decided to wake up early… Beat the morning commute and all."

"On a Sunday?" Mom didn't have to say 'you odd duck', because it was implied with her tone.

"I wanted to get some shots over the Metro-Narrows before it got really congested and while the light was decent. Mostly the water against the bridge's trusses. I was thinking of working them into a report that I'm going to be writing at the end of the semester about long term effects of salt water against different metals… Professor Llom really enjoys that level of showmanship." she let out a huffy little laugh, finding it funny how much things had changed in one simple day. "Metro-Narrows has that beautiful structure, it's trussed deck extends below the deck as well as in the arches above…." she shook her head. "Anyway. I was taking pictures. Distracted by that, mostly."

"Did you get into your 'zone'?" Mom asked, smiling the way people do at videos of kittens trying to jump and usually failing.

Anita hesitated, thinking about it. "No…" she murmured with a tiny shake of her head. "I mean, I got some shots, and I tried to focus on what I was doing, but there was this feeling I kept getting like.." she took a deep breath, not sure how to describe the sensation. "..like I wasn't entirely safe or something… or maybe like...like someone was watching me or something. That weird, low-grade tension that builds up before a jump-scare in horror movies, I guess."

"And that's when hell broke loose?"

"Uhhh, yeah." Anita squirmed in her chair, her spine undulating slightly as if she needed to work a kink out of it. "I thought….maybe one of those big tankers got in a wreck or something. It felt like there should've been some sort of explosion, but there wasn't any fire or anything. There was just this guy. This guy wearing masks." she rolled her bottom lip into her mouth, biting it before continuing. "People started rushing everywhere at once. I darted behind one of the beams… I stayed there. I knew if I tried to run, I'd just trip or get shoved and...everything was just chaos."

"You pressed yourself against a beam?"

"Yeah. I ducked behind one and just let everyone run past me...used to beam for cover, I guess." she snorted. "I didn't realize how many commuters walk on that bridge till then."

"Then what happened?"

"Capes showed up. I didn't see where from, but they were there… and things got bad  _fast_."

"And that's when you pitched in?"

Anita took a deep breath in and met Mom's eyes. "He was gonna die."

Mom closed her eyes, leaning her elbows on the table. "Baby." she said, trying to soften the next blow. "We have  _had_  this talk." She paused, waiting for a steady moment to round out the final statement in the argument between them. "People die by the billions every day. That doesn't mean you have to risk yourself."

Anita rolled her eyes. "Mom, it was Superboy. Superboy was going to die! Super. Boy. Superman's Boy. Might as well be Metropolis boy,  _Our boy_ , and there was no one else there!"

"Anita, really? Superboy is  _our_  boy?" Mom held up a hand. "If you're willing to make decisions worth dying over, that's...that's not fine, I'm not happy about it, but it's your decision. Die for the people you love, die to make the world a better place, but don't die for some pseudo-fascist iconography! I'm sure that works really well for Superboy, but everyone else doesn't think of you as  _their_  girl, and they're not willing to save you. Clearly!" Mom rolled her eyes heavenward, squeezed them shut to pray for strength and serenity because she didn't want or need to yell right now. "So, what? You just jumped into the fray? Caution to the wind, and all that."

"I changed my shape!" Anita argued before her expression went a touch watery. "But.. I guess I just...forgot my—" The rest was muffled as she groaned into both hands.

"Your fingerprints." Mom grumbled. She shook her head. "If I ever find the asshole that suggested a fingerprint day..."

"That was the year a bunch of kids went missing, Mom." Anita reminded, forking the fingers of both hands into her hair and pushing it back away from her face. She rested her chin on the table and left her hands on top of her head in a deflated-flan-in-a-cupboard sort of look.

Mom put both hands on the table, her shoulders arching just a touch as she took a deep breath and then relaxing as she let it go.

"So...you...stepped in. What happened, exactly?"

Anita sat up a bit, keeping her hands in her hair. It felt comforting for some reason, and she wasn't willing to let it go yet.

"Hit the guy with the masks. Hard. I rarely take my jasper off, so." she made 'you know' expression on her face, and Mom nodded. "The guy had put a glowing green rock on a lead chain around Superboy's neck…" Anita tapped her own collar bone as if to illustrate this scenario. "It's what was killing him."

"A  _glowing_  rock? What was it?"

"It was Kryptonite."

Mom's face wrinkled in a harsh squint. "Krypton… where Superman is from?"

"Yeah. Evidently, Kryptonite is really bad for Kryptonians. Something to do with the sun's radiation affecting the rock.… I'm not clear on that." she shook her head. "Lois Lane wrote an article about Superman when she interviewed him way back in the day, and another one about Krypton later on... it's not as enlightening as I'd hoped it would be." she sighed.

Mom was still squinting. "Why would you tell a reporter these things….?" she mused.

"There aren't a lot of scholarly articles about kryptonite out there, sadly." Anita shrugged. "Anyway, I was going to try and get rid of it, but I couldn't. I think that guy in the masks had some sort of holding ability, because he had Robin and that Lagoon Boy pinned too."

"Lagoon boy...that's the one that actually looks like the creature from the black lagoon, right?"

Anita paused. "I mean...yeah, but young and hot." Mom paused, tilting her head sideways and suppressing a smirk. "Don't give me that look."

"Young and hot, huh?"

" _Sooo_  not the point right now." Anita reminded.

"Right, right." Mom sighed, but she occasionally slid suspicious eyes towards her daughter...the smirk totally ruined the effect. "The lead death necklace."

"I took it."

"...the ...lead?" Mom sat up straighter, leaning over the table, closer to Anita. "You know what lead does to you."

"Not the lead, Mom. I mean, I did tap the lead too. But...the kryptonite. I took it." Mom froze in place staring at her. "I took it all."

There was a heavy beat of silence as they surveyed each other.

"How...is that?"

"Uhhh." Anita half laughed, her eyes drifting towards the ceiling as she nodded rapidly. "Horrific." she continued laughing breathlessly. "It's like… like I feel really weightless, or I could be if I want to, but there's this weird...shortness of breath. And I want to cry. Like, all the time. And I keep going between really just wanting to curl into a tight ball and sob and wanting to stare listlessly at the dirt, but I feel like I need to run or something's going to eat me." she shook her head. "It's like… like being clinically depressed, being aware of the depression, and trying to rationalize it and knowing you don't have time for this shit."

Mom reached both hands across the table, taking Anita's in hers and keeping them in a gentle grip.

"That explains why your eyes turned so green." Mom observed, wondering how her daughter had managed to hide that from her for this long. Anita ducked her eyes, staring at their joined hands instead. "It's ok. They're still your eyes." Mom picked up their hands and kissed Anita's knuckles. "What happened then?"

"Uh…" she swallowed harshly. "I'd uh… So, I'd punted the ass in the masks across the bridge, right? He was on the other side of the bridge. And Superman shows up…" she chuckled softly. "He just t-balled the guy with an enormous metal beam, and the guy flew all the way back across the bridge, back near us again." her expression sobered significantly. "But then, he flew towards us, and he… I was affected by it."

"By what?"

"The kryptonite. I mean, I'd taken it all but… but kryptonite's such a trip. Like, I couldn't—" she shook her head. " _I_  was the thing that was killing them."

"Ok, first, you are  _not_  a thing."

"Not really the point, Mom." Anita reminded. She sighed. "Anyway, something hit me and knocked me off the bridge." Mom's grip became tighter. "And I was full-on hovering out there… like.. Kryptonite's really really intense and horrible, but evidently, it gives you wings." Mom let out a breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding, deflating like a cheap wal-mart balloon. Anita started chuckling softly again. "I remember thinking, 'I lost my camera, my scarf, and I lost my peace of mind all in one outing'." she laughed, shaking her head. "It shouldn't be funny."

"I think we've gotten into hysterical territory, hon." Mom said. "Come here." she rose and drew Anita into a hug. "You don't have to go to school tomorrow if you don't want to."

"I think I need to. I think I need something to focus on."

"We'll see in the morning." Mom decided. Maybe Anita did need things to think about, but it wasn't as if she couldn't occupy herself on her own. She would also need to sleep, and Sharon had no idea if she'd be able to manage that after such a trying day. "I'm sorry about your camera."

Anita drew away, shrugging. Thinking about it made her feel sick to her stomach...but it wasn't like there was anything she could do. "I mean… it's been four months since the last birthday, and I backed-up daily..." the words sounded hollow, even in her own ears.

"But you love taking pictures." Mom reminded, as if she needed to.

"Yeah.." Anita croaked before clearing her throat. "..but it is what it is." she said sullenly. "I can...just use my phone if I really want to take photos. I use it for everything else." She finally met Mom's eye. "What… what are we gonna do?"

"What do you mean?"

"About.." she waved her hands in ambiguous circles. "All this."

"We can tell the boys whenever you're ready."

"I'm not talking about the smols, Mom. We had Batman on our doorstep tonight. Like…. Batman. It doesn't get much more serious than that."

Mom shifted her weight slightly, shrugging as she leaned her elbows on the table, stacking one forearm over another. "According to what you've said, I don't see where you've committed any crime. I can't imagine that we'd have to worry about superheroes." she took a deep breath. "You are a law abiding citizen, after all."

"Yeah, but… I mean, there's gotta be more to it than that." Anita reasoned. She sauntered back to the drying board and and started putting the dishes back where they went.

"Hm… He did say they wanted 'access' to you…" Mom leaned back against the doorway. "That's a vague term at best." she shrugged. "I guess we just do what we always do." she said with a smile. She let her hips slide forward in the seat, resting her shoulders back against the chair back in a collapsed slouch. "We play it cool, close to the vest. We've done nothing wrong, and no bills are due."

"I guess… just.. feels like... You know that term 'I have the sword of Damocles hanging over my head'?" she stalled, shaking her head. "I think that this feeling I have... that's what it is. Like there's some ambiguous penance ready to smite from on high."

"It'll be ok, sweetheart." Mom said, standing up and drawing Anita into another hug. "I don't know how, but it will."

"You don't know how?" Anita asked, drawing back to look at her mom's face.

Mom shrugged. "Most of life is just figuring out how to keep on keepin' on." she smiled. "That's just what we'll have to do now." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I am horrible at this self-promotion thing, but! I have a tumblr for my writing, and this fic is up there. Technically, the chapters get posted there pretty early (usually) in comparison to here. Uh, if you wanna go check that out, it's StrivingScribe :)
> 
> Other than that, I have to apologize. College has started up again, and I'm in my second-to-last semester. So, Sorry, but updates are probably not going to come as quickly. But I'm always writing, so here's hoping I'll have the brain cells left to edit and post stuff :)
> 
> Anyway, hope you liked!


	5. This is Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robin and Aqualad give a report on Anita Moore to the Justice League.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was wondering, root canals might be unpleasant, but they’re nowhere near as bad as needing one and not getting one :| Remember to floss, kids -..-

It wasn't often that members of the team were called to present findings to the League directly. Today was such a day. Batman had insisted that Aqualad and Robin prepare the necessary files needed (photos, videos, transcripts) and convey their findings personally before the League made its decision.

Even so, Tim still couldn't quite get a grip. They were in the Watchtower...they were in space. Nightwing had said it would be nothing, but Tim still felt like it was the opposite of that. In fact, he suspected Dick had said that just to make him feel better. Sure he had gathered most of the data...ok, all of it, but he still felt so inept in front of all these heavy hitters.

"Aqualad." Batman had been speaking, and that singular word broke through Tim's growing panic.

"Thank you." Kaldur turned and nodded at Tim, who sprung into action. They had prepared for this, and now was no time to choke. Not now...not in front of friends and allies. "The more information we glean, the more we have come to understand how delicate this situation truly is."

Tim sent the files to each Leaguer's holo computer, then set about pulling them up in order on the big screen. Right now, everyone was looking at the video replays of what Batman had begun calling… 'the incident'. It played on the center big screen in all its glory.

"This is the incident on the Metro-Narrows." Aqualad supplied.

"Do we have any leads on this man in the masks?" Icon asked.

"Not yet. That is not the lead we have been tracking." It was about then that the girl popped up, kicking Masked-Virgil across the bridge.

"Who is this?" Wonder Woman asked.

"She is who we are here to talk about." Aqualad announced. Tim froze the video and then brought up the photos of the woman that they had managed to capture, dragging it to the left side of the screen. "This woman intervened during the incident and attempted to aid Superboy."

It was then that Tim let the video play out. She grabbed the kryptonite, she couldn't throw the kryptonite, the kryptonite wasn't kryptonite anymore. Superman showed up, Arrow showed up, and then she flew the hell out of there.

"How strange." Aquaman noted.

"What isn't immediately evident, is that her presence mimics the effects of the kryptonite. While she is near, Superboy is still paralyzed, and Superman reported feeling weakened upon approaching them."

"That's true." Superman allowed. Robin had captured a still from when her face had been exposed and she was floating near the bridge. He left that image in the corner before closing out the video.

Green Arrow took this time to speak up. "The arrow that I hit her with was an expanding foam arrow. Quick drying and buoyant, it should have swelled around her and held her in the water below. But Superboy said that she was floating in midair just beneath the bridge." He shrugged. "I don't mean to brag, but my arrows are efficient. For her to get it off of her and knock it into the water means that she has incredible reaction speed  _and_  strength."

"The crystal was all that was left behind, and that is what Robin used to find her." Aqualad said, half turning to Robin.

Robin tried to clear his throat as quietly as possible. "The crystal that was left behind was no longer kryptonite, merely clear crystal." He brought up a rotating image of the crystal. "However, I managed to find three viable fingerprints." the image on screen highlighted those prints, then brought up the image of Anita.

"They belong to Anita Lilian Moore, adopted daughter of Liam and Sharon Moore. Age: 14, Weight: 135 pounds, height: 5 ft., 5, Birthday: May 9—"

"You're saying that this girl is that woman." Black Canary asked, pointing between the two images.

Tim had done his homework, and he was not without showmanship. Both of the images had been on either side of the monitor, and they now began to float towards each other. Side by side, the contrast was pretty astounding.

"Thanks to a reconnaissance mission spearheaded by Batman, we now have confirmation on that." Robin reported.

"The listening devices?" Batman asked.

Robin nodded, but Aqualad stepped in. "That evening, the team managed to find the Moore household. Batman spoke with Mrs. Moore, offering help for her daughter, while members of the team planted listening devices at key places in the home."

Robin nodded again. "We have their conversation about the incident recorded. You have the entire transcripts in front of you, but I've highlighted key parts of the conversation."

With that, Robin hit play on the edited audio file.

 _"And that's when you pitched in?"_ the mother's voice sounded distinctly unimpressed.

 _"He was gonna die."_ young, and a touch desperate, that had to be the girl's voice.

 _"Baby. We have_ had _this talk."_ the firmness of the mother's tone was somehow mitigated by the worry creeping in. Worry for her child, no doubt. _"People die by the billions every day. That doesn't mean you have to risk yourself."_ that statement seemed so callous.

 _"Mom, it was Superboy."_ a pleading whisper, before her tone rose. _"Superboy was going to die! Super. Boy. Superman's Boy. Might as well be Metropolis boy,_  Our boy _, and there was no one else there!"_ she sounded so stricken, as though the thought of losing Superboy  _was_  personal to her.

 _"Anita, really!"_ The mother's explosive huff probably knocked the wind right out of her daughter. _"Superboy is_ our _boy?"_ the derision in her tone was palpable _. "If you're willing to make decisions worth dying over, that's...that's not fine, I'm not happy about it, but it's your decision. Die for the people you love, die to make the world a better place, but don't die for some pseudo-fascist iconography! I'm sure that works really well for Superboy, but everyone else doesn't think of you as_ their _girl, and they're not willing to save you. Clearly!"_ Long seconds passed as both women regrouped. Seconds in which all they could do was breathe. _"So, what? You just jumped into the fray? Caution to the wind, and all that."_

 _"I changed my shape!"_ The girl rebutted. _"But.."_ you could her despair crawling into her tone. _"I guess I just...forgot my—"_

_"Your fingerprints."_

The sound of audio whizzing as Tim had sped to the parts of the conversation that were necessary.

 _"Hit the guy with the masks. Hard. I rarely take my jasper off, so."_ the girl says, but she pauses, lingering on some unseen communication. _"The guy had put a glowing green rock on a lead chain around Superboy's neck…"_ There's a faint distant noise of shuffling _. "It's what was killing him."_

More audio whirring as the conversation that's unnecessary speeds by. "And here, she's talking about the kryptonite."

 _"I took it."_ her voice sounds loud in the quiet.

 _"...the ...lead?"_ The mother's voice is followed by shifting. _"You know what lead does to you."_

 _"Not the lead, Mom. I mean, I did tap the lead too. But...the kryptonite. I took it."_ Both women seem to hold their breath. _"I took it all."_

The silence hangs heavy before the mother speaks. _"How...is that?"_ she sounds like she's gargled scotch recently. Many league members also shift forward, as if by pressing in they can get a closer look into the girl's experience.

 _"Uhhh."_ the girl gave one of those slightly off-kilter laughs that signals tears. _"Horrific."_ she continues laughing breathlessly. _"It's like… like I feel really weightless, or I could be if I want to, but there's this weird...shortness of breath. And I want to cry. Like, all the time. And I keep going between really just wanting to curl into a tight ball and sob and wanting to stare listlessly at the dirt, but I feel like I need to run or something's going to eat me."_ she takes in a shuddering breath. _"It's like… like being clinically depressed, being aware of the depression, and trying to rationalize it and knowing you don't have time for this shit."_

The sounds of more shifting. Some on the recording and some in the room.

 _"That explains why your eyes turned so green."_ the mother observed. _"It's ok. They're still_ your _eyes."_ There are squeaky kisses of the mother kissing her daughter's hands, and some of the Leaguers can't help but smile at that open affection. _"What happened then?"_

 _"Uh…"_ the girl swallowed audibly. _"I'd uh… So, I'd punted the ass in the masks across the bridge, right? He was on the other side of the bridge. And Superman shows up…"_ she chuckled softly. _"He just t-balled the guy with an enormous metal beam, and the guy flew all the way back across the bridge, back near us again."_ a beat of sobering silence _. "But then, Superman flew towards us, and he… I was affected by it."_

_"By what?"_

_"The kryptonite. I mean, I'd taken it all but… but kryptonite's such a trip. Like, I couldn't-"_ she held back a little sob. _"_ I _was the thing that was killing them."_

_"Ok, first, you are not a thing."_

_"Not really the point, Mom."_ The girl reminded. She sighed. _"Anyway, something hit me and knocked me off the bridge. And I was full-on hovering out there… like.. Kryptonite's really really intense and horrible, but evidently it gives you wings."_ the mother lets out a wheezy breath. The girl started chuckling softly again. _"I remember thinking, 'I lost my camera, my scarf, and I lost my peace of mind all in one outing'."_ she laughed, shaking her head. _"It shouldn't be funny."_

The audio stopped. The rest was in the transcript...everything was in the transcript, but Tim felt as if the majority or what was necessary for the League was in this section of the recording.

"From this, we gather that Anita Moore can absorb different abilities through different minerals." Robin reports.

"She refers to jasper as a means of gauging how well equipped she is to hit Superboy's assailant." Aqualad recalls. "Her mother mentions what contact with lead does to her. And Anita mentions 'tapping' the lead and 'taking' the kryptonite."

"How did the home seem when you were there?" Black Canary asked.

"The home is adequate. Sharon Moore's ultimate concern is with her children's well being." Batman's voice is methodical. "During my discussion with her, she refused to allow any purchase or allowance on my part. Even calling the children her 'foster' children was corrected, territorially describing them as 'my children'." he flips through his own version of the transcript. "Even her discussion with them in passing makes it clear that her priority is their safety and nothing else."

"Because she is not their foster mother. She _is_ their mother." Wonder Woman says with enough quiet conviction to move a mountain.

"What else do we know about their living situation?" this came from Superman.

"Liam and Sharon Moore have owned a bakery in Metropolis for years. The couple adopted four children; Anita, Travis, Bryce, and Jeremiah. The husband, Liam Moore, passed away in an accident four years ago." Robin recited. "As for the girl, she's an exemplary student, rarely scoring below a 91. That being said, she is also a very...quiet student."

"How so?" Batman asked.

"In searching her academic records, I found several reports—all of which seem to be submitted for extracurricular science projects. Not surprising, most of those projects are based in or around geology. What  _is_  surprising is that most promising students receive some measure of support from teachers. There's a level of fanfare that goes with the academia. Something that assures the hard work is rewarded beyond the realm of general education. With the exception of one paper, Anita Moore is a ghost in the science community. She's...a ghost in her entire school. The only reason she  _was_  published at all is because her teacher sent one of her papers to the local college for a Young Minds event. It caused a stir, because she refused to attend any of the events that come with it."

"So her profile is unusually low."

"It goes beyond that." Robin continued. "Finding her online is nearly impossible. It took forever, but I managed to find a single e-mail address and an instagram. They aren't linked to her name at all, and she works hard to upload photos and access that email through the onion."

"..the onion?"

"It's a web browser that makes it very difficult for anyone to track your activity online." Robin said. "This is a pretty extreme level of forethought when it comes to a cyber footprint."

"For a teenage girl?" Captain Atom began, before confirming exactly what Tim was eluding to. "That's downright paranoid."

"This is all well and good," Green Arrow said, rocking back in his seat. "but what can we do with all of this?"

Robin and Aqualad exchanged looks.

"Without quoting the mother directly," Batman began, "it was made apparent that any outside intervention would be…. unwelcome."

"Perhaps the girl would be more receptive to aid from those her own age." Black Canary suggests. Tim can already feel his head shaking.

"The team is more than capable of taking measures to ensure Anita Moore is well taken care of." Aqualad said, and Robin found himself nodding.

None of them took note of Superman's keen focus on the transcript.


	6. That Meghan Trainor Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our protagonist runs away from potential enemies and potential saviors...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is wondering, the Meghan Trainor song that’s referenced in the title is supposed to be ‘Lips are Moving’ :)
> 
> Without further ado!

Tim Drake wasn’t an ungrateful sort of person by nature. In fact, he’d like to think that he looked back on any given day of his life and focused on the silver lining, the good news, the reason to keep going.

 

Today, it was the enormous size of the computer interface at the team’s HQ.

 

It came in handy during times when he needed to focus on multiple points at the same time.

 

Currently, he had recognition software running over both Anita Moore’s behavioral patterns for the last—he double checked the time span it was currently at—seven months and climbing.

 

He was also running a program over her academic records—a more fine-tooth comb. It was going through her papers to catalog patterns of speech and recurring themes.

 

He was also searching the photos of her bedroom that Bumblebee had taken, in order to catalog the specific items in her room. The bugs were still in place, and the transcript software was running simultaneously (though no one was currently at the Moore house), and he was also monitoring cell phone activity...

 

Not only was it impossible for the Moore family to do anything with Anita without him knowing about it, but within a few short hours… he’d have a decent sense of who she was as a person.

 

“Have you slept?” 

 

Robin didn’t look away from the screen as Artemis approached. “I didn’t need much.”

 

“Hmn.” she grunts, but otherwise she’s satisfied without adding further comment. Conner wanders in as well, and he is gracious enough not to mention Tim’s sleeping habits. “What’s the word, bird?”

 

Conner gave Artemis a questioning look. Her sense of humor had been… odd lately.

 

“The Moore girl is at school. Her brothers too. Her mother’s probably at the family bakery.”

 

“Probably?” Conner only wants to clarify, because it isn’t often that Robin fails to speak in absolutes.

 

“Her cell phone is pinging near there. We haven’t bugged that location, but it’s still a decent enough estimation.”

 

“It’s still too early for drama.” Artemis grumbled.

 

As if on cue, a box popped up with an alert.

 

“What’s that?” Conner asked.

 

“Text message.” Robin said, squinting at the text that had popped up. “‘This shit is crazy. You won’t even believe.’” He read robotically.

 

“Is that from Anita?”

 

“Yes. To her mom.” Robin informed. Another text popped up in the same window. “‘Don’t be surprised if you get a call. I’m on my way home.’...” As the new information registered, it made his eyes nearly bulged.

 

“Oh, shit.” Artemis breathed. Conner was already in the elevator, because there was no time to lose.

* * *

 

Anita couldn’t fight the slouch she’d slipped into. Her shoulders were hunched forward and her arms were folded across her stomach, because she couldn’t stop herself.

 

Her teeth ached and her stomach felt like it was on fire. It came in throbs and waves. Throbs in the teeth and waves in the belly. 

 

Pain was such a strange thing. The throbs faded in and out, and the waves crested, peaked, washed through the rest of her nerves and then…. petered out. Meanwhile, the bwong noise from Inception was still raging in her molars.

 

“Goddamn lead.” she muttered to herself.

 

“Mrs. Douglas, might I steal Anita Moore from you for a moment?”

 

That voice brought her momentarily out of her fog. She looked up to see Mr. Davis poking his mostly bald head into the room. The man should just shave… the wispy brown hair that haloed his shiny bald head only made him look older. If he shaved, he’d probably look much younger.

 

“Uh.. very well.” Mr. Douglas looked her way, and nodded.

 

Out of habit, Anita grabbed her backpack, which she’d yet to really unpack. Class had only just started and she was… she was not doing well.

 

“You won’t have to worry about your things, dear.” Mrs. Douglas assured, but Anita ignored her.

 

She didn’t trust her classmates (or anyone else)....and she preferred to keep her things on her person or in her locker. Nothing else made sense to her.

 

“What’s going on, Mr. Davis?” she asked, her voice low and a little more creaky than usual.

 

“I have the greatest news and the best surprise for you!” Mr. Davis enthused. “Come with me.” he said, leading her down the hallway.

 

“...I hate surprises.” she monotoned.

 

This lanky, red-faced man was mostly harmless, but he still didn’t understand boundaries properly as far as Anita was concerned.  _He_ was the teacher that sent her essay into the local university for publication.

 

“Well, how does a scholarship opportunity sound then?” He asked, an enormous smile on his face.

 

...the man meant well, he really did. But… He and Anita had different ideas about her future. 

 

He had some weird notion that he was Michelle Pfeiffer and she was the entire class of at-risk ne'er do wells from Dangerous Minds, and if he only prompted her properly, she’d blossom into an ambitious student… At least it wasn’t the plot of She’s All That.

 

“I...don’t know that I want a future in science.” Anita admitted reluctantly. It was true, but she was hesitant to relent her truths to anyone.

 

“Oh! Don’t worry about that.” he waved off her admission. He probably didn’t believe her, or thought she was ‘just being shy’.

 

This was part of why Anita didn’t like talking to people. They so rarely listened.

 

She followed along, eyeing the dingy tile until he led her into his office. She was distracted, again, by the weird pewter award he had on the corner of his desk. It looked like a large circle set into the top of a pyramid, with a bunch of metal dings all over it.

 

“So, this is the student.”

 

Anita whirled around, very nearly colliding with the corner of the desk, to find a sharply dressed man closing the door. He had been behind the open door, so she hadn’t noticed him till now…

 

“Anita Moore, meet Mr. Lex Luthor.” Mr. Davis beamed as he motioned between them.

 

When Mr. Luthor stepped forward to shake her hand, she stepped back, keeping the corner of the desk between them. She stared at his face in shock, his expression calm and somewhat expectant. Her eyes finally drifted down to his hand. Mr. Davis was giving her that, ‘well go on!’ look, which only served to annoy her.

 

She blinked rapidly, shaking herself out of stasis. She took Lex Luthor’s hand in a firm grip.

 

“That’s quite a handshake you have there.” He said.

 

Anita swallowed past her parched throat. “Why is Mr. Luthor shaking my hand?” she asked the room in general. Also, why wasn’t he letting go yet?

 

He let out a little laugh and nodded. “Right to the point! I do appreciate directness.” he said, releasing her hand. She was more than a little relieved when he stepped back. “I’m sure you know that Lexcorp awards several scholarships to promising young scholars.”

 

Anita felt a tenseness creep up into the back of her neck.

 

“I was delighted with your essay about the Mississippi River and the Louisiana Wetlands.”

 

“The swamp essay?” Anita clarified.

 

He smiled, and Anita was reminded why charisma was  _not_ a dump-stat. This man could sell ice to Eskimos.

 

“Yes. The leaps you made, connecting the damming of the Mississippi river to the erosion of the—”

 

“None of that research is new or unique. I made those conclusions from the library here.” Anita tried to argue.

 

“ _That_ is what makes it significant. I can’t imagine what you could possibly do with proper funding and on-site exposure.” Anita just stared at him wide-eyed. “You don’t appear to understand what’s going on.”

 

“Anita is very modest.” Mr. Davis assured, which only made Anita glare at him.

 

Mr. Luthor half turned to Mr. Davis and smiled. “Mr. Davis, perhaps I could speak with the young lady alone.”

 

Anita blinked rapidly, more than a little shocked by this absurd request.

 

“Of course!” Mr. Davis said. Anita’s eyes practically bugged out as the science teacher quickly shuffled out of his office and shut the door.

 

Mr. Luthor smirked. “There’s no need to be so shocked. Mr. Davis wants what’s best for you, and he knows I can offer you an easy academic future.”

 

“I don’t need an academic future. I need a practical one. Or...just one at all.”

 

An eyebrow arched as he surveyed her. “I wonder. Do you really mean that? You have _no_ intentions of going to college?”

 

“I love science, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to make up my whole life.” Anita argued. “I’m a teenager. I only know that I don’t want to wake up in my 30’s realizing I made a snap decision and ended up putting all my time and energy into a career that I hate.”

 

Mr. Luthor turned and inspected Mr. Davis’s bookshelf. “That’s understandable.”

 

When he moved, Anita suddenly felt… vulnerable. Like she needed to keep an eye on him, because he was obviously dangerous… but she couldn’t figure out why.

 

Her hand landed on the award, her fingers stretching out over the metal… she pulled at the pewter, feeling it seep into her fingers, but it held nothing offensive. It felt...like..like... a shield? Her thumb slid over the little pyramid and the brass nameplate on its base… Brass. Oh, that felt promising.

 

“I wonder at your passing up this opportunity. You don’t have many good connections as it is, and the pressure of your future will not wait. You need to start making plans  _now._ ” he said without turning to face her.

 

“I beg your pardon.” it was a demand, not a question.

 

“After all, you have very few resources. Your mother can’t possibly support you all by herself, nor should she have to. She has three other children to consider, and they’ll all need her money and attention.”

 

It was then that Mr. Luthor turned and eyed her, his gaze dropping to her hand on Mr. Davis’s award, his smirk deepening. “Do you intend to hit me with that?” he asked, sounding almost delighted at the prospect.

 

“I don’t need to hit you for you to feel it.” Anita challenged. 

 

Technically, the lead and kryptonite were still in her system, and jasper never left her person. So… she could probably fight her way out of anything. Maybe.... but how bad would it be if it came to that? What sort of fall-out was she looking at?

 

Both of his eyebrows rose. “Interesting.” 

 

Her eyes narrowed, because his face was… strange. It wasn’t the genial showman he had been when Mr. Davis was here. He was something else now… It was like he had decided that she was some sort of puzzle, and he wanted to figure her out.

 

Putting what he’d said earlier about her family—knowledge he shouldn't have—together with this new behavior… Anita’s eyes widened, her shoulders hunched forward and her chin jutted out. “You need to explain yourself right now.” it wasn’t quite a challenge, but at the same time it wasn’t a request. Not that she was in any position to threaten him...

 

“I’m not here because of your essay.” he admitted.

 

“I assumed that was a lie.”

 

“What gave me away?”

 

“Your lips were moving.” she snarked, infuriated when he chuckled.

 

“A girl like yourself can do many things, Anita. You can go very far, given the proper connections, but… you’ll always want to keep your family safe...won’t you?”

 

“This is starting to smell a hell of a lot like coercion with the faintest whiff of bullshit.” Anita grumbled.

 

Mr. Luthor opened his mouth, but was interrupted by the door opening. Anita was never so happy to see the school’s guidance counselor.

 

“I’m so sorry!” Miss. McGuire stormed in, her high heels clacking on the old tile and her curly blond hair looking even more frazzled than usual. Her glasses hung like a necklace against her blouse, but those keen blue eyes were both determined and just a touch irate.

 

“Not at all, I was just—”

 

“Mr. Luthor, I’m afraid there’s been some mistake.” she interrupted. “We cannot allow one of our students, especially one of our  _female_ students, to be left alone without accompaniment.” she said, stressing the obvious predicament they were in.

 

“I’m certain Mr. Luthor’s intentions are not—” Mr. Davis began.

 

“Intentions are not our business, Mr. Davis.” Miss McGuire rebutted. “Our business is the safety of our charges, both actual and perceived.”

 

It was then that Anita realized exactly how bad this would  _look_. She obviously hadn’t wanted to be here, and yet Mr. Davis had cornered her in his office with another man… and then he left her there, alone with him. It made her skin crawl anew.

 

Now that he was back in magnanimous showman mode, Mr. Luthor only nodded. “Of course, I understand that.”

 

Anita tried to remember how Mom held herself. The way she spoke and how she behaved. Right now, she needed whatever gumption Mom possessed. She slammed her shoulders back, straightening her spine and holding her chin up from her neck.

 

“Thank you for your offer, Mr. Luthor, but I’m not interested in being a commodity.” she bit out, walking past him without making any eye contact. She wanted him to feel shelved, ignored, inept. She did meet Mr. Davis’s eyes. Honestly, Mom would probably threaten legal action...but Anita didn’t know if she had that sort of chutzpah. Still, she paused long enough to growl, “Expect a call from my mother.” before stalking out.

 

She overheard Mr. Davis grumble, “Fantastic.”

 

She kept walking, turning down another hallway and then jogging to the nearest exit once she was out of sight. 

 

Somehow she still didn’t feel safe. She exhaled heavily, trying not to pant as she leaned back against the doors…. she didn’t want to be dramatic, but… she really just couldn’t make herself go back in there! She pulled out her cell phone and quickly texted Mom.

 

_‘This shit is crazy. You won't even believe.’_

_S_ he felt some heaviness in her ankles, and had to wonder if that was the pewter...or maybe the bronze. Still, there hadn’t been a lot of bronze there to draw on. Now that she was stationary, it was starting to feel...awkward. 

 

She took a deep, fortifying breath, letting it out slowly. For some reason, this sounded so clear to her. The way you sometimes stuff your ears and listen to yourself breathe...and yet she could still hear everything else.

 

_‘Don’t be surprised if you get a call. I’m on my way home. Mr. Davis threw me in a room with Lex-effin-Luthor for no reason than because Luthor wanted to. You were right, school was a mistake today. I can’t even right now.’_

 

She shook her head again, still completely baffled by what happened. She started her walk home. It’d take a while by foot, but that time would help her clear her head…. she hoped.

 

…

 

Six blocks from school, she scuttled into an alleyway when her eyes landed on a free-roaming Superboy.


	7. Nature vs Nurture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange cross section between the behavior of parents and children... How much of that behavior is learned, do you suppose?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter goes to all the introverted girls that wanna go home and decompress. 
> 
> PS: Sorry for the chapter title :| would you look at that, my soc major is showing.
> 
> Please do enjooooy!

Sharon Moore trudged upstairs to her office, robotically calling hello to her employees as she passed them. She needed to finalize next week’s schedule, double check the status of deliveries, and most importantly… not think about how all her contingency plans weren’t going to be much good against someone like Batman.

 

She practically collapsed in her office chair, glaring blandly at the computer as she turned it on. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the light, or the lack thereof. She looked at the curtains, reminding herself that vitamin D was important.

 

She took a deep breath, rising and plodding over to the window. She drew back the curtains and froze.

 

….she did not have the tools for this.

 

“Hello, Ma’am.” Superman said, floating not far from the window.

 

She closed the curtains and held them there.

 

….of the times that Sharon imagined a scenario in which a man would be conversing with her from a second story window, encounters with superhumans had never been on the billing. Of course, all those daydreams had been when she was much younger and had fanciful notions of romance.

 

“I don’t mean to alarm you, Ma’am, but I can still see you.” He said from the other side of the notably flimsy barrier.

 

No use in hiding.

 

She tossed open the curtains and opened the window. “Exactly what are you doing here?” she demanded, through the screen.

 

“I wanted to thank you…. You’ve raised a fine young lady.” His sincerity was palpable, and Sharon almost wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. She wanted to be angry at him… but…

 

He was Superman…. Damn pseudo-fascist iconography and the heartstrings it tugged at.

 

She hung her head. “Would you… like to come inside?”

 

It was a surprisingly easy process, letting Superman into the upper floor of the Bakery unseen. They did, after all, have a fire escape up there. It was still peculiar to see him sitting on the dark teal sofa in her office…

 

“Would you like some coffee?” she asked, not at all certain what exactly she should be doing.

 

“No, thank you.” Again, Sharon was really conflicted. He was being… so polite. “You seem at a loss.” Oh. Great. He noticed. Of course.

 

She let out a little laugh. “I…” she eased into her office chair. “I don’t know why you’re here.” she said at last.

 

“I told you, I wanted to thank you. Your daughter saved my boy…” he smiled, looking a little chagrin. “Also… Batman can be a little ...intimidating. If perhaps, you were in need of anything, I could see why you might hesitate to contact him.”

 

“We’re fine.” Sharon said, wincing at how defensive she sounded.

 

Superman leaned forward slightly. “There’s no shame in admitting it.”

 

“Admitting what?”

 

“That you have a child with unique needs.”

 

“All children have unique needs.” She argued.

 

“Your child is not like most children.” Superman reminded, as if she needed to remember it. “I’m not trying to trap you or make you feel guilty.” he assured. “Anita’s circumstances have been brought before the league.” his words made her tense up. She could barely handle Batman, and here was Superman talking about the  _league_. “We’re all very impressed with your home.”

 

Sharon blinked at him, feeling dazed and disconnected.

 

“Your daughter…. her reality is far from normal. But that’s never stopped you from trying to give her that. You’ve given her a safe environment where who she is doesn’t suffer from what she is.” He smiled sympathetically. “It cannot have been easy.”

 

Breathy little laughs huffed out of her, and she felt her defenses crumble entirely. “I have never had the tools for any of this.” this admission is not an easy one, but it’s always accompanied with a resilient truth. “That’s no excuse. Not when she needs me.”

 

“Sharon.” his voice was so clear and certain. “You do not have to do this alone.”

 

Sharon steeled herself, because she could not, would not cry...in front of Superman.

 

She took a deep breath. “What…” she clenched her teeth. “I suppose I know why the league would be interested in her. What I don’t understand is what you’re so worried about.” Sharon squinted at him, studying his expression. “She hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s done the best she could with what she’s had. What do you foresee happening that has you so eager to offer help?”

 

“I honestly don’t understand why we  _wouldn’t_ offer help.” Superman countered. “It’s fairly obvious that Anita’s abilities aren’t something that she understands entirely. If we can help her understand that, we can help her find a safe place in her own society instead of trying to hide from it the way that she does now.”

 

Sharon frowned, her eyes downcast. She… she had taught Anita to be cautious, yes… what if that caution just led to her daughter into being afraid of the world? She thought of Anita’s habits and tendencies. Had she taught Anita that she couldn’t live her life?

 

Her eyes rounded as cold dread seeped into her gut. All of Anita’s tendencies were bent towards restraint, stiflingly so… Had she taught her daughter to be afraid of herself?

 

“We… we don’t have a lot of options… do we?” she realizes, woodenly staring at her own hands.

 

“Your choices aren’t as limited as you think.” Superman assured. “Either way, you’ll have support.”

 

Sharon considers this quietly before clearing her throat and determining, “Well… I have a feeling, I’ll be having a more in-depth conversation with Anita soon.” she sighed, sitting back against the chair back. “She’ll want to hide away in what’s familiar, but…” Sharon shook her head, propping an elbow on the desk and placing her hand against her temple for support. “..I just don’t know if that will continue to work for her.” Superman nodded. “I just… I don’t know…” she wavered, not certain how to voice her thoughts. “I don’t know what options she has.” she said at last.

 

Superman smiles. “Perhaps… I will have that cup of coffee.” he says. “And we can talk about possibilities.”

 

Sharon laughs a little when she realizes that even she hasn’t had a cup of coffee yet. The morning had been so robotic, she’d simply forgotten. Coffee sounded like salvation right about now.

 

Of all mornings, this was the one in which Sharon Moore had left her phone ‘Do not Disturb’ feature on…. no alerts came when Anita sent her texts.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Anita is fast and very coordinated. After darting into the alleyway, she finds and alcove and presses herself against the corner, flattening herself against the stonework of the building. At the moment, she’s out of line of sight from the street.

 

She almost laughs at herself, because all she can think is the ‘It can’t see me if I don’t move’ line.

 

She holds her breath when she hears heavy footfalls...boots. The sound draws closer, slowly edging near her little corner, until it stops.

 

“Hey.” the statement, question, greeting, whatever? It’s Superboy, because of course it is. He’s just… leaning back against the opposite side of the corner that she’s pressed against.

Fuck.

 

“Hey.” she says back.

 

“You alright?” he asks.

 

She nods, swallowing thickly before retorting, “I’m hiding in an alleyway from Superboy, so… you know. I have been happier.” He lets out a little snort of a laugh, which somehow eases her. “You?”

 

“Not that great either, actually.”

 

She blinks, focusing on him and letting the noise around them fade.. his breathing is labored. She swings away from the wall, peeking around the corner at him. He looks… worn out? Fatigued or something, maybe.

 

Her eyes widen and she vaults herself across the alleyway, nearly colliding with the business corner of a dumpster. “Shit.” she hisses. “My eyes are still green.”

 

He blinks at her, tracking her movements before squinting at her eyes. “Are they not supposed to be?”

 

She shook her head. “I have light brown eyes.” she muttered, still stepping backwards to put distance between them. “Unless…”

 

His eyes rounded, his eyebrows hiking up in realization. “Unless you absorb something like kryptonite?”

 

“Shit.” she seethes at no one in particular. Really just the situation. “Shit, shit, shit!”

 

“Wait.” he says, making to follow her.

 

“Are you mental?” She growls at him. “I’m literally radioactive right now.”

 

“Yeah, but…” he shrugs. “It’s not as bad as it was.” he admits. It’s true… he can stand and walk and talk and breathe. So it’s not bad. He still nauseous and he’s beginning to get a pounding headache… but he can cope with it. “Why is that?”

 

She opens her mouth and then freezes, her teeth clicking together when she snaps her jaw shut. She crossed her arms tightly, and muttered. “Go away.” before turning and jogging in the opposite direction.

 

“Yeah, fat chance.” he grumbles, jogging after her. His step falters after the first few, but he persists, unwilling to lose sight of her now.

 

She hears him and turns, hopping backward a bit. “What are you even  _doing_?”

 

“I’m staying with you.”

 

“You don’t make any sense!” she squeaked. “I’m a pox, and you’re going to chase after me??”

 

“We heard about Luthor.” He says, and she stops. She stares at him, completely inert.

 

“You heard about Luthor.” she repeats, her tone dull.

 

“He’s dangerous.”

 

“I didn’t need superpowers to know that.” she says in that same dull tone. “But why were you…” her eyes narrowed. “Are you watching me?”

 

His head lulled to the side a bit, his eyes sharpening as his lips thinned. It was a great, ‘really? that’s what worries you?’ expression.

 

“Of course we’re watching you.” he says in such a dismissive fashion that she feels a little foolish. Or she would if she wasn’t utterly terrified. “What did he say to you?”

 

Anita stared at him as she tried to process the question. She felt so numb, it was hard to understand works and make them.

 

“I..” she swallowed. “Some… bullshit about scholarships and…” her eyes drifted, though she certainly didn’t see anything.

 

“What?” Superboy asked, taking another step closer.

 

Anita put her hand out and backed up till she felt the brings of the wall behind her. Superboy, not wanting to make her uncomfortable, and not wanting to  _be_ uncomfortable, backed up till he was standing against the opposite side of the alley. Distance did lessen the severity of the symptoms.

 

“I think… I think he threatened me.” she said, processing the situation and the words he’d said. In retrospect, there was a thinly veiled threat in there. “He talked about my mother and brothers, and ...and said I’d want to keep them safe.”

 

She suddenly felt like she couldn't get enough air, and the weight that had bothered her in her ankles felt too heavy.

 

“Oh God…” she reached for her bracelet. Filtering the beads through her fingers, rolling them and then letting them fall before moving to the next set in line.

 

“Breathe.” Superboy coached, and it was surprisingly comforting to have him here. “You’re safe.”

 

“But they--”

 

“They are safe too.” he interjects, in hopes that it quickly quells her panic. “We’re keeping tabs on your family.” He said this without really knowing if it was true. It was more a sense that Robin would probably have something like that in place. Her distraction allowed him to draw closer, her usual misgivings about their proximity a dull memory.

 

“How..” Anita croaked before shaking her head. So many questions and she had no idea how to find answers...much less what she should do once she got those answers.

 

“Anita.” He says her name, and she freezes. “That’s your name, right?” she nodded woodenly. He holds out a hand, as if for a handshake. “I’m Connor.” she winces back from him.

 

“You shouldn’t…”

 

“It’ll be ok. Trust me.”

 

She eyes him and then his hand before timidly reaching forward to take it. She watches him, critically eyeing their point of contact before taking his reaction. Conner doesn’t feel that much worse, really. It’s just like standing next to her; a headache, upset stomach, there’s a faint sensation of cotton stuffed in his ears….sound seemed duller... but, it’s all manageable.

 

“Nice to finally meet you.” he said, and she laughed nervously. He lets go, and though she doesn’t feel threatened, Anita still presses herself against the brick behind her. It’s less about him and more about the need to feel grounded. She had her breathing back under control, at least. “You were going home, right?”

 

She swallows hard. “Yeah… It was that or the bakery, and...I really don’t want to be underfoot right now.”

 

He nods. “Then here’s what we’ll do. I’m going to accompany you home, just to be safe. When you get there, you can call your mom, assuming someone from the team isn’t already doing that. I’ll keep watch outside your house.”

 

“What??” she asked, trying to draw back, but he keeps his hold on her.

 

“Just to be safe. Besides, if I’m outside and you’re inside, I probably won’t feel the effects of the kryptonite.”

 

She takes a deep breath. “There’s really no point in trying to deny it, is there?” He doesn’t comment, aside from a wry smile. “You really don’t have to stay, though. I’m sure it’s fine.”

 

“I’ll touch base with the team before I move on.” he concludes. She nods, and starts walking. He falls into step beside her.

 

“Are you...wearing your shirt inside-out?”

 

He shrugs. “Believe it or not, it’s usually enough for most people to not notice me at all.”

 

“...huh.” is her only response.

 

They walked in silence for a few blocks before Superboy said. “So...this thing you do with rocks…”

 

She huffed out a heavy breath, but otherwise, there was no response.

 

“uh...How’s that work?”

 

She shrugged. “I don’t know how it happens, just that it does happen.” her tone is dull but unresisting. Her voice is hushed, as if she’s afraid to be overheard. Superboy eyes her, wondering how forthcoming she’ll be if he keeps asking.

 

“You just...what? Suck up things from them?”

 

“I…” she sighs heavily, shaking her head. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“You’ll have to eventually, you know.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I have to right this second.” She grumbled. “Or that I have to tell  _you_ anything.”

 

“You always this chipper?” Superboy asked.

 

She smirked, and while there was plenty of derision in her posture...the expression wasn’t entirely a sarcastic. “Can’t be helped. I’m having  _such_ a good day.” she stops at a crosswalk, hunching her shoulders in a downward arc, her arms crossed over her belly as she damn near folded her torso in half.

 

“Uh… you ok?” he said, wincing at the ineptitude of those words. Of course she wasn’t, and he feels like an ass for mentioning her struggle at all… but...how else can he figure out what’s going on, unless he asks?

 

Her face settled in a pout before she grumbled. “Lead is a bitch.”

 

He half snorted. “Tell me about it....but...I mean.. wait, what?”

 

She groaned. “On the kryptonite necklace. There was lead.” she reminded. “Why lead, anyway? It’s not a decorative metal. It’s even poisonous to normal people.” she lurched forward when the walk sign lit up. “It kills my stomach.”

 

“You feel the lead ...in your stomach?” he asked.

 

She nodded. “It’s not even that it’s horribly painful...it’s just… jarring. It was worse yesterday, when the contact was fresh. Now, the crests are spaced pretty far apart.” she grumbles, then stops and turns to glare at him.

 

He stares back, fighting the discomfort of those eyes. “What?”

 

She huffed out a sigh. “You’re just…” her teeth clenched together. “...you’re surprisingly easy to talk to.” she muttered before she started walking again.

 

“I...what?” his confusion at her statement was palpable.

 

“I don’t talk about it. I never talk about it. Not with anyone except my mom.” she says, needlessly adjusting the right strap of her backpack. “I didn’t want to talk about it, and here I am talking about it.”

 

“Well…” he wondered if he could reason her into opening up more. “I  _am_ one of the few people aware of the situation. It...could do you good.”

 

“It doesn’t.” she bit out, looking away.

 

“And maybe….maybe I feel a little guilty about it. I’m the biggest part of why you’re…” he jutted his chin in her direction.”Suffering?” he shrugged. “May as well tell me all about it.”

 

She straightened her spine, rolling her shoulders back as she walked with her eyes forward. “Don’t be an idiot. Spreading the suffering around is no way to manage it. Besides, I’m responsible for my actions. No one else.” She shook her head. “Apart from that, talking about it is distracting.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

She took a deep breath. “I’ve keep asking myself one thing on loop… Why was I shaking Lex Luthor’s hand this morning?”

 

He blinked, his eyes darting around them. Just the mention of Luthor made him feel twitchy. Like he was being watched down the barrel of a sniper’s scope.

 

“Walking’s a good time to think.” Anita continued, her eyes sliding towards him.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“The reason you feel guilty… it’s because I’m in pain after I helped you?”

 

He blinked at her. “What are you getting at?”

 

“There are three factors that connected to what happened yesterday. The asshole on the bridge with his death necklace, you and your group, and me in an imperfect disguise. I assume what’s left of the necklace is secure in your custody.”

 

“It is.” he snapped, feeling strangely defensive.

 

“Hm.” she grunted, looking forward again.

 

“What are you fishing for?”

 

“We can both assume that Luthor wasn’t angling to meet me for a scholarship, and it’s very suspicious that he’d approach me the day after that whole bridge thing.” she ground her molars, not sure how to continue. “Even if he doesn’t know about me, he knows  _something_ , and he wants  _something_.”

 

The question she wanted to be answered was… delicate. Or it could be. She assumed Superboy was here to help, but how far did this goodwill extend, exactly? Could he be provoked into changing his opinion entirely?

 

“I guess what’s bothering me is… How Lex Luthor ties into all this? Assuming that he does… If it’s because of what happened yesterday, how is he connected to that? Could it be a coincidence?... That seems..” she shook her head again. “unlikely.”

 

“Luthor owns most of Metropolis.”

 

“Fantastic.” Anita spat. Again another wave of anxiety washed over her, her thoughts immediately centering on her mother and brothers.

 

“It’s possible that he got something from traffic cameras, the way that Robin did….”

 

Anita took a deep breath, gaining little comfort from the action. She still felt breathless, but she refused to submit to that panic. Now was not the time.

 

“Batman  _did_ show up on my porch last night.”

 

“That was a covert op, but… Luthor is resourceful.” he shrugged, feeling guilt creep up into his shoulder blades. “Guess he could’ve seen that.”

 

“Do you think Luthor’s connected to the Mask-hole?”

 

Superboy breathed out a tiny laugh. “Maybe. But… I don’t see how he’d know about  _you_. We don’t even know much about you.”

 

He watches from the corner of his eye as she chafes her own biceps as though she’s cold. “Yeah well.. me neither.”

 

His eyes darted forward, away from her. To watch her right now...It felt… invasive. Like he was staring at her while she was having this vulnerable moment.

 

“Now what?” she said.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean.. I mean, how…” she shook her head. “I… I don’t know what to do.” she said, her tone distant, confused as she watched her steps as she was taking them.  “PVA26077.” she muttered.

 

“What?”

 

“It’s...an inside joke. Mom’s not overly worried about profanity now, but there was a time when it was on the list of things that’d get you in trouble.” she explained, sounding stronger than she had just a moment ago. It was nice to discuss something she had a decent grasp of. “Travis and I came up with a bunch of things to use instead of the standard cuss words.. that one’s one of the most colorful slurs.” She smirked. “Mom never got mad at those, because we used things like ‘Waterloo’ and ‘Witch Trials’... another way get Travis more interested in history.” she massaged her temples.

 

“We don’t have contingencies for this.” she murmured. “Worst comes to worst, text plan zero to everyone, everyone comes home, we pack up and hit the road. No questions asked, let things run their course. Hire movers, sell the business, open shop in a new area…” she began to pant. “But… but Luthor’s reach is long. And even if he wasn’t a factor, the Justice League is involved now.”

 

“Hey, you don’t have to run from us, alright?” Superboy reminded. “We actually want to help.”

 

“To what end?” Anita cut in. “I don’t want to be a superhero. I just want to live my life in relative peace.”

 

“Who says you can’t?” Superboy challenged, and she finally met his eyes. “We just want to make sure you’re safe.”

 

SHe surveyed him for some time before she started walking again. “Something to consider.” she muttered, and it was really starting to irritate him.

 

He knew there were a million thoughts cycling through her head, but she just wouldn’t say anything. She refused to say anything at all. Was it just how she processed things? Or was this a bigger issue.

 

The two of them spoke very little during the time it took to reach the Moore house.

 

“We’ll be around… you know…” Superboy shrugged.

 

“If I should need you.” she said with a tiny smirk, and he had the distinct impression this was another inside joke.

 

He nodded. “I’ll...check back with the team and… we’ll see you around.”

 

She nodded, swallowing thickly before croaking. “Thank you.” She didn’t wait for a response before jogging inside.

 

She didn’t see Superboy check his comm before jogging across the street. She didn’t see him leap away, because she didn’t look.

 

Once inside she took a deep breath. The air in the house normally had a soothing quality to it. But something was off. Her head slowly rotated to the side, one ear cocked higher than the other.

 

“...there are three heartbeats in this house.” she announced to the seemingly empty living room.

 

The sound of footsteps from the kitchen made her eyes dart to that doorway. Her eyes widened as a well-dressed Lex Luthor stood there smiling at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, I really have to get back to my African American history Pre-1868....even though it's lible to kill me :|


	8. Dungeons & Disclaimers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anita knows she can't attack the darkness, so she tries to stall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys. It's been forever. I'm just gonna leave this here. I hope you like it :)

Conner had to cross two streets before he finally got a signal on his comm. “Conner here. Robin? You there?”

“Reading you loud and clear. How is she?”

“Shaken and stirred, I bet.” Conner smirked at Artemis’s quip.

“She’s managing, but it isn’t easy.”

“I just got word that Superman is talking options with her mom.” Robin informs and Conner’s brow jumped up and he huffed out a self-depreciating laugh… what are the odds?

“Why’s your signal two streets over?” Artemis asked.

“Couldn’t raise you. Took a bit of a jog to get a signal through.”

The pause that followed gave the three of them a moment to think.

“Is that supposed to happen?” Artemis is always happy to point out the obvious.

“No.” Robin replies, and Conner can almost imagine the sound of the keyboard keys clacking.

“Could it be her?”

“How do you mean?” Artemis asked.

“She was in pain, something about the lead affecting her. She walked funny too, dragging her feet a bit. Nothing terribly out of the ordinary, but I got the impression there are physical side effects from her abilities.” His words hault, as he considers how much he should say.

He wasn’t just wasn’t sure how much she would want to keep confidential. But these were his observations, so that was safe… Still, should he divulge more? Would they need more to make a decision properly?

“The house has been quiet through the morning. The transcript is still running. I didn’t suspect anything, considering that it’s supposed to be quiet, but something’s jamming the signal.”

“Did she mention anything about it?” Artemis probed.

“Did she mention specifically being able to jam comms?” Robin clarified, choosing to focus on the more troubling matter at hand. “They were working properly up until a few minutes ago. Unless she managed to acquire new abilities this morning.”

“She’s...less than forthcoming.”

“Still?”

“Still.”

Conner looked back towards the Moore house. Everything seemed quiet.

“Maybe you should go and check it out, Conner.” Artemis suggested. “Just to be safe.” she waited, and her only response was silence. “Conner?” she ground her back teeth together. Slowly Artemis started nodding her head. “He’s already on his way, isn’t he?”

“His com just went offline again.” Tim informed as he watched the signal disappear from the map readout.

* * *

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

* * *

 

Anita stares at Luthor and the woman just behind him in apathetic shock. There are so many emotions bottlenecked in her throat that she can’t process a single one of them… Her brain has become a chamber of echoes.

She’s used to peculiarity. When you have to deal with younger siblings and superpowers on a regular basis, the absurd happens often.

But she is a rational, orderly-type person. Everything has its place...every thing, every person, every practice, every thought. Everything in. its. place.

Home is safe (just like baseball). Safe and for safe things.

Her eyes drift to the far wall and her mother’s ancient bureau.

“And then God said, ‘Let’s cook this day fuck-side up’, and it was so.” she murmurs to herself before sloughing off her backpack. It isn’t supposed to go in the chair by the door, but today appears to be that sort of day.

A startled almost begrudging laugh echoed form Luthor. Vile intruder that he is. He would be amused at her suffering.

“Our conversation is not over.” he announced, as though his appearance were magnanimous and for her benefit. “And I will not be denied.” ah. There was the edge she expected from a rational sociopath.

Psychopath?

Sociopath?

...she could debate later.

Anita tugged off her shoes, because she was in her own goddamn house and she’d chew aluminum before any outsider told her she couldn’t do what she wanted in her house.

“Suppose I should let you speak your piece.” she muttered. “You’ve made it clear that you have no intention of being discarded.”

He smiled. “At last we understand each other.”

She was so frustrated with this situation, but there was a strange… braking point. It wasn’t that she was unhinged, but she felt so detached from her own circumstances.

She knew she couldn’t fight her way away from Luthor. It would be foolish to try. This was a man of intelligence, at least that’s what he told himself. His ability to be prolific in his circle of influence was due largely to outplaying his adversaries. Even Superboy had said that he owned most of the city...and probably a lot of other places too. If Metropolis were a chess board, it would be hard to find a single square that Luthor couldn’t get to.

Her mind latched onto another thought. It was simple, even if utterly absurd. Bring him into an arena in which she isn’t powerless. There was a place in this very house where she was the master of the universe…. the table where she would play dungeon master for her brothers and their friends. If she could be that person, the one who created the world around him instead of allowing him to have his own control...maybe she could at least stall him.

...or maybe she was fooling herself, and this was nothing more than an elaborate comfort mechanism. Either way, it was something.

“We do not, sir. We do not at all.” Anita grumbled, walking to the center of the living room. “It isn’t uncommon for a man to chase after something he wants, but most of those wants are tied to reason. Only a madman chases things that are unequal to his efforts.….a madman or a fool, and you are not either.” she allowed her eyes to drift as she thought about this. “There can be no reason equal to these actions. There’s no need to waste water on tears while you’re in the desert.” his eyes narrowed as he surveyed her. “This is trespassing, breaking and entering, and harassment. Even if the charges wouldn’t ever see a courtroom... you can’t deny that it makes a man of your situation look bad.” She half scoffed, “Chasing a teenage girl this way.”

“I am not concerned with my appearance.”

“Oh, I think you are.”Anita countered, her eyes widening expressively. “These actions coil of ego. And I cannot fathom how I have any worth in comparison.” she plants her feet shoulder width apart, an easy act as her ankles still feel weighted. “It’s illogical. You are no small fish. Yet you remain. What could possibly be worth your time, crowding in my little pond?”

“I am flattered by your estimation of me.” he said. He seemed so at home in a space that wasn’t for him. It would be unsettling, but Anita forced herself still and chanted mentally to play to his ego as often as she could without it being too obvious. “This is my assistant. Mercy.” The woman stepped forward and nodded.

“How ironic.” Anita drawled with a smile of her own.

Again, Luthor chuckled. “I didn’t realize you were entertaining as well as intelligent.”

“You aren’t here to comment on things I already know.”

“I assure you, I am no adversary of yours.” his words sound so genial, and yet there is no assurance in his assurances. “Not yet.” And there he went, insinuating that edge into the conversation. “I have disabled the listening devices planted in your home so that we might speak privately. I’m sure it’s knocked out long-distance communications as well.”

Anita’s mind hummed as she processed this. Jamming frequency. Listening devices. Long-range communications. What for? Privacy? An attack of opportunity? He had to know she was being monitored….

Of course, now she realized how invasive that monitoring had been. The listening devices were in her home.

“No idea how long it’ll take them to realize.” she murmured. “You’d better say what you need to say.” she walked past him into the kitchen. “Coffee?” that’s something adults do, right?

“No, thank you.” he responded, eyeing her as she sat at the table. “As to my intent…. A recent associate of mine seems to consider you in high regard.”

“Associate.” She sat back in her chair, forcing her spine to relax against the chair back.

“I would be more forthcoming if I could.” Luthor admitted. “However, stipulations were made in our alliance, and they are centered on you. Of course, like any good businessman, I had to investigate this oddity. Know your enemy, know yourself; all that.”

“That’s reasonable.” she allowed. She’s honestly more concerned with the comment about knowing your enemy. “In this scenario, when you say ‘enemy’... are you referring to me, or…?” he laughed, interrupting her question, and she nodded feeling reassured. “This mysterious associate then.”

“After yesterday’s debacle, I think we can confirm that said attentions are not entirely unfounded.” Luthor said, meandering slowly back into the kitchen and sitting across from her. Mercy remained standing, just behind him and slightly in the doorway between rooms.

Anita’s eyes narrowed slightly.

So. He did know about the incident on the bridge… but how?

“I didn’t realize you had any hand in that Metro-Narrows fiasco.” she said, and he smirked.

“I...can neither confirm nor deny—”

“It’s a little late for disclaimers.” Anita grumbled. “Besides, with the communications disabled, it’s not like you’ll have to worry about incriminating evidence.”

“True, but you could tell anyone you liked.” she watched his throat flex in a very firm swallow. “Perhaps someone who regularly sports an over-embellished S on his chest.”

Anita snorted. “The likelihood of me remaining on close terms with people I regularly push away hardly seems a decent fear. Not to mention, their knowing one way or the other wouldn’t be of any inconvenience to someone like yourself.” That’s it. Play to that ego. She eyed the tablecloth, absently wondering why gingham was a pattern her mother loved so much. “That asshole in the masks was with you?”

Now his smirk unfurled into a full grin.

“Yes. The ‘asshole in the masks’ is ‘with me’.” he says... Something about him seems more relaxed now. “At least, I am aware of his activities via….” he paused, taking and releasing a breath as he searched for the right word.

“Associates?”

He smirks again. “Yes. Associates.”

“Hm.” she murmurs, still staring at the tablecloth. “Tangled web.” her absent words aren’t really meant for anyone. Her eyes snap up, fixating on his tie. “So you’re here…. to see me with your own eyes?”

“It’s best we meet now, before you’re steeped in whatever dogma the League will stew you in.” he countered, leaning his elbows forward and folding his hands under his chin.

So.. He isn’t just here to see her, see who she is… He’s also here to find out if she’s a threat, and see if he can secure an in.

Her eyebrows tick up, there’s a level of annoyance and suspicion evoked from those words. For both of them, it seems. She reminds herself to remain calm.

Well. First, she needs to keep herself safe.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I have no desire to festoon myself in spandex and “fight” crime.” she announced, using air brackets for added emphasis on the word ‘fight’. “All I want is peace.”

“You wanted more than peace yesterday.” He reminds.

“I suppose allowing Superboy to die would have been giving him a type of peace, but… the way of the grave is less than satisfying.” Again, his eyes narrow at her words.

“Well.” Luthor sat back in his chair, eyeing her. “What I want you to consider then, is this. Do you honestly think the Justice League will allow you the peace you so crave?”

“Why should they not?”

“I believe my presence alone will prompt immediate action on their part.” He announces.

Now it’s Anita’s turn to regard him with narrowed eyes. They wandered to the far wall.

“Sir.” Mercy interrupts. “Superboy appears to be circling the house.”

“How wide a radius?”

“He’s observing from other yards.”

“Hm.” Luthor smirked. “It won’t take him long to close in. My boy is not the brightest, but he learned caution well enough.” Anita blinks, her eyebrows lift and her eyes dart back to Luthor in surprise. “Ah, I imagine he prefers not to discuss his parentage with errant damsels.” Lex said, in a way that’s so patronizing and yet fond...he almost seems like an indulgent parent.

It’s bothersome because she isn’t certain where those feelings are truly aimed. It seems… just… there. But for all Anita knows, he could feel them for her or Superboy… what a psycho.

“I’m a millennial, Mr. Luthor.” Anita reminded. “If there’s one creed we adhere to, it’s not judging someone for their circumstances.” Lex huffed out another laugh. “Everyone has their own sword of Damocles….” Anita admitted, almost an aside to herself. “..and genetics don’t matter until they do.”

“And who decides when genetics matter?” Luthor asked, his words as sharp as his focus.

“That’s a philosophical question I haven't the time for. I imagine you don’t have the time for it either.” she muttered with a shrug. “It’s enough to know that everyone decides when and how much genetics matter to them as it suits them. Do they matter to you?”

Lex pondered this for a second before a smile curls at his lips. “Are you...stalling me?”

“I confess, we’ve had quite the conversation, but I still don’t know what you want.” she says, crossing her arms. “I suggest you make your closing statements simple. It would be a shame to be….” she pauses, huffing out a tiny laugh. “...interrupted.”

Lex actually laughed again. “Then I suppose it is lucky that my message is relatively basic. I only want to convey that you have options that don’t begin and end with the League. Their pomp and circumstance are hardly the ways of peace you seem so eager to embrace.”

Three knocks at the front door, hard, heavy, and unrelenting. “Anita?” Superboy, his voice as urgent as the knocks on the door. It is so strange to hear him call her name…

“Back door’s open.” Anita’s tone doesn’t slip any higher than a typical conversational tone, but she knows he can hear her. “This ‘associate’ of yours. You never mentioned exactly what ‘they’ wanted.”

“Unfortunate then, that our time is up.” Luthor murmured.

“Well played, or it would be if that were enough to tempt me to initiate or maintain contact.”

Luthor takes merely a second to weigh his options. “My associate wants ….anonymity.” his eyebrows jump and his eyes roll. “There’s a question as to how effective that demand will be, considering the absurdity of it.”

The back door swung open, and Superboy stopped only to glare at Luthor. Mercy’s posture became tense, as she stepped into the kitchen.

“Luthor.” Superboy growled. Anita was momentarily distracted by the change in his posture. This is the boy who’d ambled beside her down the street, slouching with his hands in his pockets? Now… His shoulders seem… loaded. Not hunched, but more imposing. His neck was almost bent forward, almost as if in preparation for a luge.

“Hello, son.”

Superboy actually bared his teeth. “I don’t care what you’re doing here. Get out.”  

Luthor’s eyes almost softened, though only by a fraction. Then he looks back to Anita. “Is that what you would prefer?”

Anita takes a deep breath through her nose, somewhat surprised that she was being consulted… The man with the devil’s smile was most concerned with being courteous now? After insinuating himself into her safe space….. the cheek.

“As fascinating as this conversation has been—and trust me, it truly has been—I would prefer my mother’s house to remain unscathed.” she said.

Luthor nods, rising slowly. “Please, consider our conversation carefully.” he advised in closing.

“Thank you for your time.” she responded, and it felt almost cordial, if not for how automated it sounded. He gave her one last smirk, and she hoped that means he found her curious or amusing.

He strolled to the front door, Mercy hovering just behind(again, the most ironic name. It’s almost poetic ‘Mercy strolls in Luthor’s Shadow’, or something like that). She eyed Superboy as the front door was opened, only returning to Luthor’s side once he’d passed through the portal.  

Superboy relaxed when the door was shut, only to start in surprise when Anita’s chair scraped out a foghorn sound as she pushed it away from the table. She half collapsed onto her knees, slithering into a heap beneath the table.

“Anita.” he murmured, crouching down to check on her.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” she whispered, but her breathing was off. She drew air in and held it for what felt like long seconds at a time.

He realized that she was counting out how long the process takes for each part. The taking of breath, the holding, and the releasing. A simple coping mechanism, not a health hazard.

“Superboy, come in.” The comm was loud in the stillness. Even Anita could hear it.

“Superboy here.”

“Finally.” Robin’s voice was a breath of relief. “We’re closing in on your location.”

“We?”

“Impul—uh..Kid Flash, Artemis, and I.” after a second he half muttered. “The computers run themselves, after all.”

“Status report?” this came from Artemis.

“Luthor was here, but he’s gone.”

“Damn. What did he do?”

“Other than knocking out the comms and having a chat?” Anita muttered, massaging her temples. “You put bugs in my house?”

“Listening devices.” Superboy admitted. “And just two of them, to keep an eye on things.”

“To keep an ear on things.” Anita corrected, her shoulder leaning heavily against the table leg as she pitched forward. “And not very well, it seems.”

“Is she really mad that we spied on her?” Artemis grumbled over the comms.

“Am I angry that you violated my civil liberties?” Anita clarified, and Superboy had to wonder how keen her hearing was. “No. I’m angry that you did so, and it didn’t do a goddamn bit of good.”

“Here.” Conner offered her a hand, and she stared at it and then at him. He watched as she contemplated this, her hands coming up to grip the table leg and not his offer of help.

“Could you just… turn around?” she asked, and he complied because… well.

Many people could lecture her on relying on the help of others, but he had been in that place. The spot where you’re confused and you feel shaky, and you just want to find your footing all on your own… and you don’t want anyone to see the struggle. He’d definitely been there.

“I’ll open the front door.”

He doesn’t see her nod, because he knows better than to watch her as she processes and recovers.

“I’m sending Kid Flash to deliver a message to the mother.” Robin announced over the comm. “It’s as good as alerting the League, since Superman is there.”

Anita heard that, and something about it gave her pause. She was suspended in a strange headspace, anxiety hovering there with her. She took a breath, and reminded herself that she couldn’t remain idle. Things needed to be done. She walked through the kitchen doorway and into the living room.

“How much time do we have?” she asked, and Superboy finally turned to look back at her.

“Not much.”

She nodded but was avoiding direct eye contact.

Her eyes landed on the chair near the door. Her hand shot out, snatching her backpack up onto her shoulder. As she was trotting up the stairs to her room, he heard her mutter, “Come at me.”

...it didn’t sound confrontational, so much as motivational.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I feel better :)


	9. The Elephant & Ram in the Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anita tries to focus on keeping things normal while recounting the sever abnormality that has been her day thus far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!

It was a Monday...which meant the house was pretty clean. Certain maintenance chores were done every day, but the weekends were when big-ticket items were taken care of. Anita clung to this every time she remembered that strangers in masks were in her home.

 

They were downstairs. The Vigilantes. 

 

...on a gorram Monday.

 

It was still early, and though Mom had been informed of something happening.. Anita suspected that she hadn’t been informed of everything that had happened. She couldn’t imagine Mom not dropping everything and racing home if she knew what went down.

 

Anita took a fortifying breath. This was her home. She would  _ not  _ cower up in her bedroom, fretting about things like laundry in the boys’ rooms. She reached out and carefully took the carvings of the little purple elephant and the tiny green ram. Her fingers ran over the stones and her shoulder blades relaxed just a touch.

 

She closed her eyes, took another deep breath, listening to her own sounds as she tried to ground herself. She put the ram in her right pocket and the elephant in her left, shimmying her shoulders in an effort to loosen up. Then she opened the door, and descended downstairs.

 

She didn’t make eye contact as she went into the kitchen, but she was still aware of them. Periphery vision was a thing, after all. 

 

She counted four of them, plus Superboy. ...fantastic.

 

She really wanted to stay as close to normal as she could, but she wasn’t sure how to do that other than ignoring them.

 

She opened the fridge, trying to keep as close to routine as possible…. that meant thinking about a meal of some sort. They had left-over spaghetti...but Travis could be so finicky about leftovers. 

 

“Anita?”

 

She started, jumping away from the cover the fridge door provided and into the corner cabinet. When the fridge door closed, a very repentant Nightwing was standing there with both hands up.

 

“Sorry.” he said, his voice smooth.

 

“I uh…” Anita shook her head. “I didn’t hear you.”

 

“You were pretty focused.” he allowed, an easy smile on his face. “Plus, I’m fairly well trained in sneaking up on people.”

 

Now that she wasn’t intent on ignoring them, her eyes pinged to Robin standing just behind him. Great… Gotham Sleuths were in her house. She ground her back teeth together, her throat flexing before she asked, “Does anyone want coffee?”

 

“Yes.” Robin said, causing Artemis to scoff at him. “What?”

 

“You drink too much coffee as it is.” she muttered. “It’s already screwed up your sleep schedule, and it’ll stunt your growth.”

 

Anita didn’t bother examining this interaction too much as she was already focusing on making coffee. A full pot. She wasn’t sure why, but she wanted some for herself… probably just for something to stir and stare at. Also, it tasted pretty good.

 

...of course, now that everything was set in motion, they were just waiting for the coffee to filter through. She took a deep breath. “I don’t… I don’t really know if there’s a procedure, or…” she shrugged. 

 

“I don’t think there are regulations for this situation.” Nightwing allowed. It was then that Anita met his eyes… or his mask. Whatever. She allowed herself to look at them, and she counted Nightwing, Robin, Superboy, Artemis, and Miss Martian in her kitchen.

 

Almost on instinct, her hand slipped into her pocket, and she brought out the little green ram. 

 

“What’s that?” Superboy asked.

 

She shook her head. “Just Amun.” 

 

“But...what stone is that?”

 

“Huh?” she looked up and realized that it was Robin who had asked. “Oh. Serpentine.” she reached into her other pocket and pulled out the purple elephant. “This one’s Ganesha. He’s made of Amethyst.”

 

“What are they for?”

 

She blinked, regarding him with slow apathy. “...they make me feel better.” perhaps more spite leaked into her tone than she’d intended.

 

“How?”

 

“I don’t know.” Anita snapped. “I hold them, and I feel better.” Anita felt irritation gnaw at her neck, her shoulder hunching up slightly. Coping mechanisms were coping mechanisms, and she hated that he was pointing out that she needed them in order to… well… Cope!

 

“I think Robin’s just curious as to your process. Specifically which stones do what.” Miss Martian confided. 

 

Oh. Right.

 

“I ...I mean, I get that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m curious too.” she shrugged. “But I’m a little on edge right now, and I don’t have a lot of answers anyway.” Admitting that took a bit of the wind out of her. Or fire… whichever.

 

“You… you don’t  _ know _ ?” it sounded so accusatory, even the team was staring at Robin with that ‘you know what you’ve done’ expression.

 

Anita took another deep breath. “Those bugs of yours, are they working now?”

 

“They should be.”

 

“Should be?” Anita’s tone matched his from earlier.

 

“They  _ are _ .” Robin said, voice more firm now. “If our comms are working, then the listening devices are as well.”

 

“Good.” Anita grunted. “Listen, about this...this Luthor thing?” they all seemed to stand up a touch straighter. “I think I should get this out as soon as I can.”

 

“I could scan your memories and set up a mental link so that we could see the memories directly.” Miss Martian offered.

 

Anita stared at her. “I…..ok, so. It’s nothing personal, or anything,” Anita held out a placating hand that was also a motion for every part of that idea to stop. “but I’d rather chew aluminum than do that. If it’s all the same to you.” 

 

“Oh.” Miss Martian looked away, shrinking from the foreground of the conversation. Was that why she was here? To do...mental things?

 

“Does aluminum do something for you too?” Superboy asked with a smirk.

 

Anita regarded him with confusion before she grinned. “... I mean, yeah.”

 

“It does?” Artemis chuckled, surprised.

 

“Yes, assholes.” Anita laughed. “It does. A lot of things do.”

 

“What does Aluminum do?” Robin asked.

 

Anita shook her head. “I mean, it’s not super useful...and it’s not like I can get anything from the minuta of tin foil or anything, but… aluminum brings a sort of...kind of… like a metal sense, I guess?” she struggled to name it as it wasn’t something she really gave much thought to. “I can tell what metals are around me.” she shook her head. “It’s not super useful or anything.”

 

“But still cool.” Artemis announced.

 

“True.” Nightwing murmured. “And you are correct. We should record your account of the events that occurred with Luthor as soon as possible.” 

 

Those words brought such somberness back into the kitchen. 

 

Anita nodded. “I’d seen him earlier today at school.” she said. “He made a few vague threats towards my family before one of the teachers intervened.” she swallowed, remembering how Superboy came into her walk home like a wrecking ball. They probably knew that much, though. Maybe they even knew that he’d been at her school. It was hard to tell what was viable. 

 

“Do you recall what he said?” Nightwing asked.

 

“Uh, he was offering me—well, Lexcorp was going to offer—but, I mean, he was there to discuss scholarship options.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “It got really weird when he managed to convince Mr. Davis to leave his own office so that he could talk to me.” she let out a long breath that she’d been breathing at an accelerated pace. “He said something about my family, saying that I couldn't rely on them forever and my mother wouldn’t be able to support me, and… that I’d want to keep them safe.” she didn’t miss the looks they exchanged, though she couldn’t decipher what they meant. “That’s when we were interrupted. I don’t think I’ve ever really sat and talked with Ms. McGuire, but I could’ve hugged her.”

 

“Who is she?”

 

“The school’s guidance counselor.” Anita said with a grin. “She just barged in there and told Luthor it was inappropriate to meet privately with a ‘female student’, and it was the school’s responsibility to guard even the ‘perceived safety’ of their students.”

 

Artemis’s hands settled on her hips as she leaned back slightly. “I think I like this teacher.”

 

“Um. When I got home, he was just here.” she jutted her chin out to the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “Strolled on over like he’d been waiting for me. I told him to say what he was going to say, because it was obvious he wasn’t going to just go away.” 

 

Anita set Ganesha down on the counter, holding him upright and placing a single finger on the carving’s back. “He said he’d knocked communications out. I played to his ego, tried to stall.  It didn’t make sense, it still doesn't.” she tried to focus on specifics without being too comprehensive. 

 

They didn’t need to know how he held himself, or more importantly how she felt in response to his presence. 

 

“He said an associate of his was interested in me, and he was doing damage control. Seeing if he needed to get involved.” her eyes darted back and forth rapidly.

 

“What is it?”

 

“I don’t….No. He didn’t.” she blinked. “He never used a pronoun when he referred to his associate.”  she squinted. “I don’t know if it’s because this associate wanted anonymity, or if he just wanted to dick around.” 

 

“Was that it?”

 

Her eyes darted to Superboy and away again. “Nothing of note. He just wanted to...I don’t know.. See what was so special about me and…”

 

“What?” Superboy’s query made her lose her train of thought.

 

“He said… ‘especially after yesterday’. I asked if he knew the man in the masks, and he said at first ‘he’s with me’ and then later that he knew him or was aware of him via associates.” Anita blinked. “I mean, Luthor’s a big fish, so the likelihood of ‘the associate’ that’s interested in me being the same one who knows the man in the masks is… probably low.”

 

“What exactly did Luthor say?” Nightwing asked.

 

“I asked if the asshole in the masks was with him, and he said yes, and then he elaborated that he was aware of him through, but he started looking for a word and I suggested the term ‘associates’ and he agreed that he knew him via associates.”

 

Anita stared at them as they all looked between each other. Of course, what she didn't know is that Miss Martian was facilitating a mental conversation between them, one that she was not privy to.

 

“Uh.” she cleared her throat, looking at Superboy. “You said someone was going to be… uh, telling my mom what was going on.”

 

Of course, that wasn’t true. Superboy hadn’t told her anything, she’d overheard Robin say it over the comms to Superboy. She also heard that it was Kid Flash who was doing this...which meant, it should’ve been done quickly.

 

“I said that.” Robin corrected, and a part of her felt relieved. Not that he was correcting her, but that he was willing to be truthful about the situation. “Kid Flash went to explain the situation to your mother, but Superman was already there talking with her.”

 

“Huh…” Anita murmured, somewhat amused by Superboy’s shift. 

 

He scratched his nose trying to hide his smirk. ‘Like father, like son’ was the first thing that came to Anita’s mind.

 

“Is something the matter?”

 

“Uh… Well. I mean, that was… at least, it feels like that was a while ago, and I guess I expected something in the way of response… Considering it was Kid Flash that was getting it done… I guess I thought it’d be a quick response.”

 

That got quite a few grins.

 

“Not for lack of trying.” Miss Martian muttered. “Unfortunately, Superman has him pinned there.” she said. “The adults are talking, but they want him to run messages when they finally make a decision.”

 

Anita’s expression slid into neutral as she absorbed this. She wasn’t sure why, but she had expected something else. This was… anticlimactic?

 

“Hm.” was all she said in response. Did she even need to fix dinner, or was this just another waste of energy? It didn’t matter what she decided to do if the adults were the ones making the decisions.

 

“Hey, are you ok?” Artemis’s question snapped her attention back into the here and now.

 

“Yeah. I’m fine.” she said with a shrug. She took a deep breath. “I think I’m...just gonna watch Netflix or something.” she murmured, pouring out some coffee for herself. “Help yourselves to coffee.” she said, leaving the cabinet that held the coffee mugs open. The cream and sugar were in there too, so it wasn’t like they’d need further direction. 


End file.
